Genuflections During the Mass: What the Traditional Latin Mass Teaches Us Through Action

See http://acatholiclife.blogspot.ie/2015/03/genuflections-during-mass-what.html

How the Traditional Latin Mass Fosters More Active Participation than the English Mass

NewLiturgicalMovement.org December 15, 2014:

How many times do lovers of the classical Roman Rite hear the objection: “The new Mass is better than the old one because it allows for more active participation of the faithful,” or “The old Mass just had to be reformed eventually, because the priest was the only one doing anything, and the people were all mute spectators.” My aim in this article is to refute such claims and to demonstrate that, if anything, the opposite is true.

Active/Actual Participation

People who take the time to sit down and study Sacrosanctum Concilium are often struck by how much of this document is unknown, ignored, or contradicted by contemporary Catholic practice. Often, there are phrases that are so rich, and yet the manner in which they have been turned into slogans has undermined their original nuance and depth.

The most notorious victim of this process of journalistic simplification has been the notion of “active participation” or participatio actuosa. The word actuosa itself is very interesting: it means fully or totally engaged in activity, like a dancer or an actor who is putting everything into the dancing or the acting; it might be considered "super-active." But what is the notion of activity here? It is actualizing one's full potential, entering into possession of a good rather than having an unrealized capacity for it. In contemporary English, "active" often means simply the contrary of passive or receptive, yet in a deeper perspective, we see that these are by no means contrary. I can be actively receptive to the Word of God; I can be fully actualizing my ability to be acted upon at Mass by the chants, prayers, and ceremonies, without my doing much of anything that would be styled “active” in contemporary English.[Note 1] As St. John Paul II explained in an address to U.S. bishops in 1998:

Active participation certainly means that, in gesture, word, song and service, all the members of the community take part in an act of worship, which is anything but inert or passive. Yet active participation does not preclude the active passivity of silence, stillness and listening: indeed, it demands it. Worshippers are not passive, for instance, when listening to the readings or the homily, or following the prayers of the celebrant, and the chants and music of the liturgy. These are experiences of silence and stillness, but they are in their own way profoundly active. In a culture which neither favors nor fosters meditative quiet, the art of interior listening is learned only with difficulty. Here we see how the liturgy, though it must always be properly inculturated, must also be counter-cultural. [link]

If your choir or schola sings Proper chants or motets at Mass, or if you’d like to see this happen someday, make sure you have this text from John Paul II ready for the person who objects: “But the people need to be singing everything!” Dom Alcuin Reid explained the Council’s intention very succinctly in an interview last December:

The Council called for participatio actuosa, which is primarily our internal connection with the liturgical action—with what Jesus Christ is doing in his Church in the liturgical rites. This participation is about where my mind and heart are. Our external actions in the liturgy serve and facilitate this. But participatio actuosa is not first and foremost external activity, or performing a particular liturgical ministry. That, unfortunately, has been a common misconception of the Council’s desire. [link]

Now, even with the common misunderstanding of “actual” cleared out of the way, it is an extremely curious fact that the full expression from Sacrosanctum Concilium 14 is rarely quoted: “Mother Church earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that full, conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy” (in the original: "Valde cupit Mater Ecclesia ut fideles universi ad plenam illam, consciam atque actuosam liturgicarum celebrationum participationem ducantur, quae ab ipsius Liturgiae natura postulatur"). Whatever happened to “full” and “conscious”?

Conscious Participation

Let’s probe this matter further. After several decades of attending Mass in both the OF and the EF (both celebrated “by the books”), I’ve become convinced that there is paradoxically a far greater possibility of not consciously paying attention to the Mass in the vernacular, precisely because of its familiarity: it becomes like a reflex action, the words can go in and out while the mind is far away. The vernacular is our everyday comfort zone, and so it doesn’t grab our attention. This is why when we are in a busy place where lots of people are speaking, we tend not to notice that they are even talking—whereas when we hear a foreign language, something other than our mother tongue, suddenly our attention is caught by it.

Of course, this lack of attentiveness can happen in the sphere of any language: as someone once put it, I can be doing finances inside my head while chanting the Credo in Latin—if I have been chanting it every week for years. But it nevertheless seems evident that this danger is significantly less present with the usus antiquior, for two reasons:

First, its very foreignness demands of the worshiper some effort to enter into it; indeed, it demands of the worshiper a decision about whether he really wants to enter into it or not. It is almost pointless to sit there unless you are ready to do something to engage the Mass or at very least to begin to pray. The use of a daily missal, widespread in traditional communities, is a powerful means of assimilating the mind and heart of the Church at prayer—and for me personally, following the prayers in my missal has amounted to a decades-long formation of my own mind and heart, giving me a savor for things spiritual, exemplars of holiness, ascetical rules, aspirations and resolutions. When I attend the EF, I am always much more actively engaged in the Mass, because there is more to do (I’ll come back to this point) and it seems more natural to use a missal to help me do it.

Second, the traditional Latin Mass is so obviously focused on God, directed to the adoration of Him, that one who is mentally present to what is happening is ineluctably drawn into the sacred mysteries, even if only at the simplest and most fundamental level of acknowledging the reality of God and adoring our Blessed Lord in the most Holy Sacrament. I am afraid to say that it is not clear at all that most Catholics attending most vernacular OF liturgies are ever confronted unequivocally and irresistibly with the reality of God and the demand for adoration. Or, to put it differently, the old liturgy forms these attitudes in the soul, whereas the new liturgy presupposes them. If you don’t have the right understanding and frame of mind, the Novus Ordo will do very little to give it to you, whereas the EF is either going to give it to you or drive you away. When you attend the EF, you are either subtly attracted by something in it, or you are put off by the demands it makes. Either way, lukewarmness is not an option.

Full Participation

So much for “conscious.” What about “full” participation? Again, as surprising as it may seem in the wake of tendentious criticisms, the traditional Latin Mass allows the faithful a fuller participation in worship because there are more kinds of experience to participate in, verbal and non-verbal, spiritual and sensuous—indeed, there is far more bodily involvement, if one follows the customary practices. This last point deserves attention.

At a Low or High Mass, depending on the feast, one might make the sign of the Cross 8 times:

• In nomine Patris…
• Adjutorium nostrum…
• Indulgentiam…
• Cum Sancto Spiritu (end of the Gloria)
• Et vitam venturi (end of the Credo)
• Benedictus (in the Sanctus)
• if the Confiteor is repeated at communion;
• At the final blessing.

To this, some add the sign of the cross at the elevation of the Host and of the Chalice. And of course, the triple sign of the cross is made twice—once at the Gospel, and once at the Last Gospel.

Moreover, one will end up striking the breast up to 15 times (!)

• 3x at the “mea culpa” of the servers’ Confiteor;
• 3x at the Agnus Dei;
• 3x at the second Confiteor;
• 3x at the Domine, non sum dignus;
• 3x at the Salve Regina (O clemens, O dulcis, O pia).

Traditionally-minded Catholics have learned to bow their head slightly at the name of Jesus, and to bow at other times during the liturgy, such as when the priest is passing by or when the thurifer is incensing the people. We go one step further and genuflect at the “Et incarnatus est” of the Creed—every time it is said, not just on Christmas and Annunciation, as in the Novus Ordo. We genuflect as well at the final blessing and at the words “Et verbum caro factum est.” (There are also other special times during the liturgical year when everyone is called upon to genuflect.)

While the postures of the faithful at certain times in the Mass are not as regimented as in the Novus Ordo, a Low Mass will typically have the faithful kneeling for a long time (from the start all the way to the Gospel, and from the Sanctus all the way through the last Gospel), which is a demanding discipline and really keeps one’s mind aware that one is in a special sacred place, taking part in a sacrifice. At a Sunday High Mass, there will be quite a lot of standing, bowing, genuflecting, kneeling, and sitting, which, together with the signs of the cross, the beating of the breast, the bowing of the head, and the chanting of the responses, amounts to what educators call a TPR environment—Total Physical Response. You are thrown into the worship body and soul, and, at almost every moment, something is happening that puts your mind back on what you are doing. The OF has tended to drop a lot of these “muscular” elements in favor of merely aural comprehension and verbal response, which, by themselves, constitute a fairly impoverished form of participation, and surely not a full one.

Most distinctive of all, perhaps, is the immensely peaceful reservoir of silence at the very center of the traditional Latin Mass. When the priest isn’t reading the Eucharistic Prayer “at” you, as it were, but instead is offering the Canon silently to God, always ad orientem, it becomes much easier to pray the words of the Canon oneself in union with the ministerial priest, or, if one prefers, to give oneself up a wordless union with the sacrifice. This makes the Canon of the Mass a time of more intensely full, conscious, and actual participation than is facilitated by the constant stream of aural stimulation in the Novus Ordo.

A Culture of Prayer

An observation at the blog Sensible Bond fits in very well with the foregoing analysis:

One can still hold the new rite to be integrally Catholic, and yet consider that the culture of the extraordinary form, where the people are supposedly passive, tends to teach people to pray independently, while the culture of the ordinary form often tends to create a dynamic in which people just chat to each other in church unless they are being actively animated by a minister.

What we have seen, therefore, is a conclusion that flies completely in the face of the conventional wisdom. “Active participation,” in the manner in which it is usually understood and implemented in the Novus Ordo sphere, actually fosters passivity, while the Catholic who receives in a seeming passivity all that the traditional Mass has to give is actualizing his potential for worship to a greater extent. Consequently, if you are looking to fulfill the Council’s call for full, conscious, and actual participation, look no further than your local traditional Latin Mass and you will find, with due time and effort, a richness of participation more comprehensive than the reformed liturgy allows.

Dietrich von Hildebrand on the Holy Latin Mass vs. the New Mass

TraditionalCatholicPriest.com February 16, 2013:

Dietrich von Hildebrand, called by Pope Pius XII “the 20th Century Doctor of the Church,” was one of the world’s most eminent Catholic philosophers. Cardinal Ratzinger (Pope Benedict) wrote about Dietrich von Hildebrand in the year 2000: “I am firmly convinced that, when at some time in the future, the intellectual history of the Catholic Church in the 20th century is written, the name of Dietrich von Hildebrand will be most prominent among the figures of our time.”   The following is an article he wrote on the Latin Mass that appeared in the October 1966 issue of Triumph magazine:

The arguments for the New Liturgy have been neatly packaged, and may now be learned by rote. The new form of the Mass is designed to engage the celebrant and the faithful in a communal activity. In the past the faithful attended Mass in personal isolation, each worshipper making his private devotions, or at best following the proceedings in his missal. Today the faithful can grasp the social character of the celebration; they are learning to appreciate it as a community meal. Formerly, the priest mumbled in a dead language, which created a barrier between priest and people. Now everyone speaks in English, which tends to unite priest and people with one another. In the past the priest said Mass with his back to the people, which created the mood of an esoteric rite. Today, because the priest faces the people, the Mass is a more fraternal occasion. In the past the priest intoned strange medieval chants. Today the entire assembly sings songs with easy tunes and familiar lyrics, and is even experimenting with folk music. The case for the new Mass, then, comes down to this: it is making the faithful more at home in the house of God.

Moreover, these innovations are said to have the sanction of Authority: they are represented as an obedient response to the spirit of the Second Vatican Council. This is said notwithstanding that the Council’s Constitution on the Liturgy goes no further than to permit the vernacular Mass in cases where the local bishop believes it desirable; the Constitution plainly insists on the retention of the Latin Mass, and emphatically approves the Gregorian chant. But the liturgical “progressives” are not impressed by the difference between permitting and commanding. Nor do they hesitate to authorize changes, such as standing to receive Holy Communion, which the Constitution does not mention at all. The progressives argue that these liberties may be taken because the Constitution is, after all, only the first step in an evolutionary process. And they seem to be having their way. It is difficult to find a Latin Mass anywhere today, and in the United States they are practically non-existent. Even the conventual Mass in monasteries is said in the vernacular, and the glorious Gregorian is replaced by insignificant melodies.

My concern is not with the legal status of the changes. And I emphatically do not wish to be understood as regretting that the Constitution has permitted the vernacular to complement the Latin. What I deplore is that the new Mass is replacing the Latin Mass, that the old liturgy is being recklessly scrapped, and denied to most of the People of God.

I should like to put to those who are fostering this development several questions: Does the new Mass, more than the old, bestir the human spirit–does it evoke a sense of eternity? Does it help raise our hearts from the concerns of everyday life–from the purely natural aspects of the world–to Christ? Does it increase reverence, an appreciation of the sacred?

Of course these questions are rhetorical, and self-answering. I raise them because I think that all thoughtful Christians will want to weigh their importance before coming to a conclusion about the merits of the new liturgy. What is the role of reverence in a truly Christian life, and above all in a truly Christian worship of God?

Reverence gives being the opportunity to speak to us: The ultimate grandeur of man is to be capax Dei. Reverence is of capital importance to all the fundamental domains of man’s life. It can be rightly called “the mother of all virtues,” for it is the basic attitude that all virtues presuppose. The most elementary gesture of reverence is a response to being itself. It distinguishes the autonomous majesty of being from mere illusion or fiction; it is a recognition of the inner consistency and positiveness of being–of its independence of our arbitrary moods. Reverence gives being the opportunity to unfold itself, to, as it were, speak to us; to fecundate our minds. Therefore reverence is indispensable to any adequate knowledge of being. The depth and plenitude of being, and above all its mysteries, will never be revealed to any but the reverent mind. Remember that reverence is a constitutive element of the capacity to “wonder,” which Plato and Aristotle claimed to be the indispensable condition for philosophy. Indeed, irreverence is a chief source of philosophical error. But if reverence is the necessary basis for all reliable knowledge of being, it is, beyond that, indispensable for grasping and assessing the values grounded in being. Only the reverent man who is ready to admit the existence of something greater than himself, who is willing to be silent and let the object speak to him–who opens himself–is capable of entering the sublime world of values. Moreover, once a gradation of values has been recognized, a new kind of reverence is in order–a reverence that responds not only to the majesty of being as such, but to the specific value of a specific being and to its rank in the hierarchy of values. And this new reverence permits the discovery of still other values.

Man reflects his essentially receptive character as a created person solely in the reverent attitude; the ultimate grandeur of man is to be capax Dei. Man has the capacity, in other words, to grasp something greater than himself, to be affected and fecundated by it, to abandon himself to it for its own sake–in a pure response to its value. This ability to transcend himself distinguishes man from a plant or an animal; these latter strive only to unfold their own entelechy. Now: it is only the reverent man who can consciously transcend himself and thus conform to his fundamental human condition and to his metaphysical situation.

Do we better meet Christ by soaring up to Him, or by dragging Him down into our workaday world?

The irreverent man by contrast, approaches being either in an attitude of arrogant superiority or of tactless, smug familiarity. In either case he is crippled; he is the man who comes so near a tree or building he can no longer see it. Instead of remaining at the proper spiritual distance, and maintaining a reverent silence so that being may speak its word, he obtrudes himself and thereby, in effect, silences being. In no domain is reverence more important than religion. As we have seen, it profoundly affects the relation of man to God. But beyond that it pervades the entire religion, especially the worship of God. There is an intimate link between reverence and sacredness: reverence permits us to experience the sacred, to rise above the profane; irreverence blinds us to the entire world of the sacred. Reverence, including awe-indeed, fear and trembling-is the specific response to the sacred.

Rudolf Otto has clearly elaborated the point in his famous study, The Idea of the Holy. Kierkegaard also calls attention to the essential role of reverence in the religious act, in the encounter with God. And did not the Jews tremble in deep awe when the priest brought the sacrifice into the sanctum sanctorum? Was Isaiah not struck with godly fear when he saw Yahweh in the temple and exclaimed, “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips . . . yet my eyes have seen the King?” Do not the words of St. Peter after the miraculous catch of fish, “Depart from me, 0 Lord, because I am a sinner,” testify that when the reality of God breaks in upon us we are struck with fear and reverence? Cardinal Newman has shown in a stunning sermon that the man who does not fear and revere has not known the reality of God.

When St. Bonaventure writes in Itinerarium Mentis ad Deum that only a man of desire (such as Daniel) can understand God, he means that a certain attitude of soul must be achieved in order to understand the world of God, into which He wants to lead us.

This counsel is especially applicable to the Church’s liturgy. The sursum corda–the lifting up of our hearts–is the first requirement for real participation in the Mass. Nothing could better obstruct the confrontation of man with God than the notion that we “go unto the altar of God” as we would go to a pleasant, relaxing social gathering. This is why the Latin Mass with Gregorian chant, which raises us up to a sacred atmosphere, is vastly superior to a vernacular Mass with popular songs, which leaves us in a profane, merely natural atmosphere.

The basic error of most of the innovations is to imagine that the new liturgy brings the holy Sacrifice of the Mass nearer to the faithful, that shorn of its old rituals the Mass now enters into the substance of our lives. For the question is whether we better meet Christ in the Mass by soaring up to Him, or by dragging Him down into our own pedestrian, workaday world. The innovators would replace holy intimacy with Christ by an unbecoming familiarity. The new liturgy actually threatens to frustrate the confrontation with Christ, for it discourages reverence in the face of mystery, precludes awe, and all but extinguishes a sense of sacredness. What really matters, surely, is not whether the faithful feel at home at Mass, but whether they are drawn out of their ordinary lives into the world of Christ–whether their attitude is the response of ultimate reverence: whether they are imbued with the reality of Christ.

Those who rhapsodize on the new liturgy make much of the point that over the years the Mass had lost its communal character and had become an occasion for individualistic worship. The new vernacular Mass, they insist, restores the sense of community by replacing private devotions with community participation. Yet they forget that there are different levels and kinds of communion with other persons. The level and nature of a community experience is determined by the theme of the communion, the name or cause in which men are gathered. The higher the good which the theme represents, and which binds men together, the more sublime and deeper is the communion. The ethos and nature of a community experience in the case of a great national emergency is obviously radically different from the community experience of a cocktail party. And of course the most striking differences in communities will be found between the community whose theme is supernatural and the one whose theme is merely natural. The actualization of men’s souls who are truly touched by Christ is the basis of a unique community, a sacred communion, one whose quality is incomparably more sublime than that of any natural community. The authentic we communion of the faithful, which the liturgy of Holy Thursday expresses so well in the words congregavit nos in unum Christi amor, is only possible as a fruit of the I-Thou communion with Christ Himself. Only a direct relation to the God-Man can actualize this sacred union among the faithful.

The depersonalizing “we experience” is a perverse theory of community

The communion in Christ has nothing of the self-assertion found in natural communities. It breathes of the Redemption. It liberates men from all self- centeredness. Yet such a communion emphatically does not depersonalize the individual; far from dissolving the person into the cosmic, pantheistic swoon so often commended to us these days, it actualizes the person’s true self in a unique way. In the community of Christ the conflict between person and community that is present in all natural communities cannot exist. So this sacred community experience is really at war with the depersonalizing ‘we-experience” found in Mass assemblies and popular gatherings which tend to absorb and evaporate the individual. This communion in Christ that was so fully alive in the early Christian centuries, that all the saints entered into, that found a matchless expression in the liturgy now under attack–this communion has never regarded the individual person as a mere segment of the community, or as an instrument to serve it. In this connection it is worth noting that totalitarian ideology is not alone in sacrificing the individual to the collective; some of Teilhard de Chardin’s cosmic ideas, for instance, imply the same collectivistic sacrifice. Teilhard subordinates the individual and his sanctification to the supposed development of humanity. At a time when this perverse theory of community is embraced even by many Catholics, there are plainly urgent reasons for vigorously insisting on the sacred character of the true communion in Christ. I submit that the new liturgy must be judged by this test: Does it contribute to the authentic sacred community? Granted that it strives for a community character; but is this the character desired? Is it a communion grounded in recollection, contemplation and reverence? Which of the two–the new Mass, or the Latin Mass with the Gregorian chant evokes these attitudes of soul more effectively, and thus permits the deeper and truer communion? Is it not plain that frequently the community character of the new Mass is purely profane, that, as with other social gatherings, its blend of casual relaxation and bustling activity precludes a reverent, contemplative confrontation with Christ and with the ineffable mystery of the Eucharist?

Of course our epoch is pervaded by a spirit of irreverence. It is seen in a distorted notion of freedom that demands rights while refusing obligations, that exalts self-indulgence, that counsels “let yourself go.” The habitare secum of St. Gregory’s Dialogues–the dwelling in the presence of God–which presupposes reverence, is considered today to be unnatural, pompous, or servile. But is not the new liturgy a compromise with this modern spirit? Whence comes the disparagement of kneeling? Why should the Eucharist be received standing? Is not kneeling, in our culture, the classic expression of adoring reverence? The argument that at a meal we should stand rather than kneel is hardly convincing. For one thing, this is not the natural posture for eating: we sit, and in Christ’s time one lay down. But more important, it is a specifically irreverent conception of the Eucharist to stress its character as a meal at the cost of its unique character as a holy mystery. Stressing the meal at the expense of the sacrament surely betrays a tendency to obscure the sacredness of the sacrifice. This tendency is apparently traceable to the unfortunate belief that religious life will become more vivid, more existential, if it is immersed in our everyday life. But this is to run the danger of absorbing the religious in the mundane, of effacing the difference between the supernatural and the natural. I fear that it represents an unconscious intrusion of the naturalistic spirit, of the spirit more fully expressed in Teilhard de Chardin’s immanentism.

Again, why has the genuflection at the words et incarnatus est in the Credo been abolished? Was this not a noble and beautiful expression of adoring reverence while professing the searing mystery of the Incarnation? Whatever the intention of the innovators, they have certainly created the danger, if only psychological, of diminishing the faithful’s awareness and awe of the mystery. There is yet another reason for hesitating to make changes in the liturgy that are not strictly necessary. Frivolous or arbitrary changes are apt to erode a special type of reverence: pietas. The Latin word, like the German Pietaet, has no English equivalent, but may be understood as comprising respect for tradition; honoring what has been handed down to us by former generations; fidelity to our ancestors and their works. Note that pietas is a derivative type of reverence, and so should not be confused with primary reverence, which we have described as a response to the very mystery of being, and ultimately a response to God. It follows that if the content of a given tradition does not correspond to the object of the primary reverence, it does not deserve the derivative reverence. Thus if a tradition embodies evil elements, such as the sacrifice of human beings in the cult of the Aztecs, then those elements should not be regarded with pietas. But that is not the Christian case. Those who idolize our epoch, who thrill at what is modern simply because it is modern, who believe that in our day man has finally “come of age,” lack pietas. The pride of these “temporal nationalists” is not only irreverent, it is incompatible with real faith. A Catholic should regard his liturgy with pietas. He should revere, and therefore fear to abandon the prayers and postures and music that have been approved by so many saints throughout the Christian era and delivered to us as a precious heritage. To go no further: the illusion that we can replace the Gregorian chant, with its inspired hymns and rhythms, by equally fine, if not better, music betrays a ridiculous self-assurance and lack of self-knowledge. Let us not forget that throughout Christianity’s history. silence and solitude, contemplation and recollection, have been considered necessary to achieve a real confrontation with God. This is not only the counsel of the Christian tradition, which should be respected out of pietas; it is rooted in human nature. Recollection is the necessary basis for true communion in much the same way as contemplation provides the necessary basis for true action in the vineyard of the Lord. A superficial type of communion–the jovial comradeship of a social affair–draws us out onto the periphery. A truly Christian communion draws us into the spiritual deeps.

The path to a true Christian communion: Reverence . .. Recollection . . . Contemplation

Of course we should deplore excessively individualistic and sentimental devotionalism, and acknowledge that many Catholics have practiced it. But the antidote is not a community experience as such-any more than the cure for pseudo-contemplation is activity as such. The antidote is to encourage true reverence, an attitude of authentic recollection and contemplative devotion to Christ. Out of this attitude alone can a true communion in Christ take place. The fundamental laws of the religious life that govern the imitation of Christ, the transformation in Christ, do not change according to the moods and habits of the historical moment. The difference between a superficial community experience and a profound community experience is always the same. Recollection and contemplative adoration of Christ–which only reverence makes possible–will be the necessary basis for a true communion with others in Christ in every era of human history.

Five Unlikely Celebrity Fans of the Traditional Latin Mass

Catholic Herald reported on November 20, 2014:

At the Catholic Herald this morning we were surprised to learn that Bill Murray loves the traditional Latin Mass. The Groundhog Day star, who was raised a Catholic and even has a Sister who is a Dominican, told the Guardian: “I think we lost something by losing the Latin… there’s a vibration to those words.”

He is not the only celebrity fan of Mass in its pre-1962 form. Here are five others…

1. Neil Tennant

Tennant, one half of the synth pop duo Pet Shop Boys, though no longer a practising Catholic, told Andrew Sullivan of the Daily Dish: “The thing that I always liked about Catholicism they got rid of! I liked the Latin and the incense and the sort of music and plainsong.”

2. Simon Callow

The English actor, best known among theatre buffs for his mesmerising performance as Mozart in the stage version of Amadeus, told The Catholic Herald this year that growing up he wanted to be a priest. He was inspired, he recalls, by the rituals of the Old Mass, their “beauty and theatrical power”.

3. Jimmy Fallon

Like Simon Callow, the American TV presenter grew up wanting to be a priest but no longer goes to Mass. He told NPR that he tried going back, but “there’s a band there now, and you got to, you have to hold hands with people through the whole Mass now, and I don’t like doing that … I want the old way. I want to hang out with the, you know, with the nuns, you know, that was my favourite type of Mass, and the grotto, and just like straight up, just Mass Mass.”

4. Julian Fellowes

The Downton Abbey writer has been spotted regularly at Extraordinary Form Masses at the Brompton Oratory.

 

5. Agatha Christie

Even though not a Catholic, Christie signed a petition asking Pope Paul VI to allow the Tridentine Mass, as it was known then, to be celebrated in England and Wales, following the introduction of the Novus Ordo.

Others who signed the petition were Graham Greene, Malcolm Muggeridge, and non-Catholics Nancy Mitford, Iris Murdoch, violinist Yehudi Menuhin, and actor Ralph Richardson.

Masculinity and the Liturgy

From 1 Peter 5 October 8, 2014:

Today, I want to broach a controversial topic, knowing full well that I may cause a ruckus. I want to talk about masculinity and the liturgy.

I will start with a few caveats. First, I do not believe the liturgy should ever be a controversial issue. It shouldn’t be a matter of politics, factions, personal preference, or cultural fads. But sadly, many have made the liturgy their personal plaything, making these conversations all but impossible to avoid.

Second, all of the following opinions are just that—opinions. I am an uneducated layman. I am not a theologian or a liturgical scholar. If you want an in depth treatment of the liturgy, read Pope Benedict’s “Spirit of the Liturgy.” That said, I am a man, and I want to share my personal observations on why I believe the liturgy is now less masculine.

Finally, in the interest of full disclosure, I attend the Latin Mass. I am not a sedevacantist, nor do I believe the Novus Ordo Mass is somehow invalid, making those who attend it from choice or necessity inferior Catholics. I love Pope Francis, I love our priests, and I love the Catholic Church. All right, onto the issues.

My Experience

I want to begin by sharing a few of my experiences as a convert. On the final stages of my road to Rome, I spent a good deal of time with high church Anglo-Catholics, regularly attending liturgies at a seminary and church near my home. These Anglicans took the liturgy seriously, and their services were conducted reverently and beautifully.

In fact, their services looked so Catholic that experiencing them led me to study further exactly why Anglicans weren’t Catholic anymore. The rest of the story is beyond the scope of this post, but the point is, I came into Catholicism with an experience of very reverent and dignified liturgy, kneeling to receive communion, and an atmosphere of sacredness.

Eventually, after months of studying Catholic teaching, I worked up the courage to attend a Catholic Mass. I had no idea what a Mass looked like, but at the very least, I expected it to be more beautiful and reverent than the Anglican liturgy. After all, the Catholics had the body, blood, soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, while Anglicans did not have the real thing.

One Sunday, my wife and I slipped in the door of a beautiful, Spanish style parish near our home. What followed was eye opening, and frankly, a bit disappointing. The music was tacky at best—a piano and guitar playing shallow ditties. The altar was stripped and bare. Where there was once an incredible high altar (there was a painting of it in the back of the Church), there was now a bizarre piece of glass with swirling colors. The priest’s vestments looked like a pinstriped sheet. Even the language of the Mass was far from sacral—it was almost on a kindergarten level. When it came time for the parishioners to receive communion, a number of laymen came forward to distribute it, and it was received standing and in the hand.

All of this was in stark contrast to the sacredness I had experienced in the conservative Anglican churches I had attended. In this instance, the Anglicans literally out catholiced the Catholics.

This was hard for me to digest. Intellectually, I knew how powerful the Mass was from my studies of Catholic doctrine. Yet, when I encountered it first hand, it was far from a transcendent experience. Rather, it was trite and banal. A few months after we were confirmed, my wife and I were attending a Latin Mass.

Where are the Men?

An Irish Catholic friend has told me that his grandfather, who was a coal miner, would rise well before dawn to attend 5:00 am Mass with his fellow miners. These men took the faith seriously and they loved the Mass. They also weren’t unique. Parishes used to be packed with men who saw the Mass as something masculine, inspiring, and something worth sacrificing time for.

A few decades later, most parish Masses are dominated by women. The lectors are women, the cantors are women, the extraordinary ministers are predominantly women, and the altar servers are often girls. Other than the priest, there are hardly any men involved in the liturgy.

This is not to denigrate women. The most glorious creature God ever made is a woman. I also do not mean to say there are no men involved in parish life, because this is not the case. I am referring specifically to the liturgy.

Why is this? I am not a liturgical scholar, and I can’t propose to provide a precise diagnosis. Many others, including Pope Benedict, have done a fine job of that. Instead, I will share seven reasons I think men no longer love the Mass.

1. Lack of Order

In the Extraordinary Form, there are few surprises in the liturgy. While there are occasional seasonal changes, it follows a set pattern that can be learned easily. The actions of the priest and acolytes are regimented and orderly, and the Mass looks essentially identical no matter where you go. In short, the Extraordinary Form is rigid, disciplined, and almost militaristic in its precision.

In contrast, the Novus Ordo Mass is much more fluid. The priest can choose a number of different Eucharistic prayers, the penitential rite at the beginning of Mass can be chosen at the discretion of the priest, welcoming remarks and announcements are commonplace during the opening and closing prayers. Extraordinary ministers are not required, but they are almost always there, even if there are only 10 people at a daily mass.

The Novus Ordo can be beautiful and transcendent, or it can be incredibly poor. The point is, you just don’t know what to expect. The difference between the two forms of the Mass is really the difference between objectivity and subjectivity.

2. No Longer Exclusively for Men

Radical feminism has ensured that there are almost no roles left that are exclusively for men. Whereas men and women used to have distinct and exclusive roles, the lines have now been blurred.

Sadly, this blurring has crept into the liturgy.

Being an altar boy used to be a high privilege. It was even considered a potential first step on the path to the priesthood. Even if a boy didn’t become a priest, he would have a unique opportunity to see the dignity and masculinity of the priesthood firsthand.

Now, girls can be altar servers, and boys aren’t as interested. It’s like adding girls to the football team—it saps the masculinity right out of it. While it may be hard for women to understand, exclusively male roles are a healthy thing for boys. Quite literally, boys need to be boys, and they need to learn from masculine men.

In addition to altar girls, the distinctive role of the priest—who is, of course a man—has been diluted by the introduction of laypeople into the liturgy. The very fact that a woman can now distribute communion or read the Epistle immediately makes the liturgy less masculine.

You could argue that the priesthood is still exclusively for men, and that’s true. But if you start distributing the priestly duties to laypeople, it doesn’t really matter if women can’t be priests. They can still do the priest’s job.

3. Sentimental Music

The music at most parishes is abysmal. It is more suitable for a Greenpeace rally than the church of God. It is sickly sweet and sentimental fluff that no man in his right mind would want to sing. The lyrics are all about our feelings, and they use vague ambiguities to describe our relationship with God. Of course, a growing number or parishes are working to change that, but the majority are still stuck in the doldrums.

I don’t mention music just to nitpick. Music has everything to do with the atmosphere of the Mass. The Gloria set to a tune that sounds like the theme song of the kids show My Little Pony is going to trivialize the source and summit of the Catholic life.

On the contrary, beautiful, dignified, ancient, and masculine music like Gregorian chant (the music Vatican II actually called for) sets a solemn tone that inspires the lifting of the mind and heart to God.

4. The Priest Faces the People

Frankly, most people don’t think the priest facing the people is a big deal. Even if it is, it doesn’t have much to do with masculinity, right? Wrong. It has a lot to do with it.

When the priest faces the same direction as the people (ad orientem), he is very clearly leading them before the throne of God. He is the representative of the people of God before an awesome and objective reality. He stands in the gap, offering sacrifices for us and for our sins—something we cannot do on our own. He is the captain, leading us toward heaven.

Furthermore, the entire congregation is oriented toward someone: Jesus Christ present in the tabernacle. Again, it is very clear who the real audience of the mass is (hint: it isn’t us). When the priest faces the people (versus populum), however, it turns the whole Mass inward, toward us, and toward our subjective feelings and experience of God. It turns an objective and transcendent reality into a self-referential act.

The priest, rather than courageously and humbly standing before God, becomes a performer for our observation. Our sense of participation is wholly dependent on whether or not we can see what is going on. The Mass is no longer a march toward heaven, it is solely about us and our feeling of community and belonging.

Turning the chief player in the Mass, the representative of Jesus Christ, toward the people is like having a battalion commander march into battle backwards. It makes no sense. It reorients the action toward an object it was never intended for.

5. The Sense of Ancientness is Lost

Men love tradition. While women find their sense of community through shared conversation, men find it through shared action. Men would much rather have a shared battle cry (Hooah!) than have a conversation over a cup of tea. That is why men love fraternal orders and the camaraderie of the military.

The Extraordinary Form is all about ancient actions. I have a missal at home that contains pages from ancient manuscripts of the Mass. In 900 a.d., the ordinary of the Mass was almost identical to what it is now. When you become a priest of the old rite, you are literally entering a centuries old club with its own secret signs and actions. The role of the people, too, is largely unchanged.

There is a sense of participation with the Church through the ages that men need (and I would argue women need as well). As men, we need to know that the we are making the same genuflections that the great soldier-saint, St. Ignatius of Loyola, made. We want to be drawn upward into a reality larger and older than ourselves, like being drawn into a secret society.

While there is debate about whether or not it is an inherent problem with the Novus Ordo, the fact is, it does not have this sense of ancientness about it. Rather, change is the name of the game. Even the words Novus Ordo mean “new” order.

If you study the texts of the Mass, you realize just how much has changed in the prayers. But even if the prayers were unchanged, the atmosphere of most parish Masses is something new and innovative. Again, you never know quite what to expect. There is no sense of ancient or shared action. Some people hold hands during the Our Father, others don’t. Some shake hands and socialize during the sign of peace, others don’t.

Men don’t like this unpredictability. We crave order, and the more ancient the venerable traditions that shape our actions are, the better.

6. No More Latin

Like it or not, Latin is the language of the Church. It isn’t something to be scorned, and it isn’t the domain of a few extreme traditionalists. It is essential to who we are as Catholics.

And guess what, Latin sounds incredibly masculine when you hear it. It is strong and concrete in its cadences. “Credo in unum Deum.” “Omnipotens Deus.” “Adveniat Regnum Tuum.” Abolishing Latin from the Mass was never the object of Vatican II. Read the documents. The Mass that Vatican II called for was a “Latin” Mass.

Besides that, it provides the ancientness I mentioned previously. It keeps the Mass from being constantly revised and retranslated to keep up with the changing fads of the vernacular.

While it may seem strange and foreign at first, I think most men are drawn to the power of the Latin language. In a way, we want Mass to feel foreign, like we are stepping into something special rather than commonplace. There is a healthy feeling of disorientation upon stepping into a sacred place, and Latin enhances that.

7. Sacrifice is Downplayed

The Mass is the sacrifice of Calvary, but sadly, that reality has been hidden from most Masses. Some parishes don’t even have a crucifix near the altar. Instead, the concept of a “community meal” has taken precedence.

This weakens the Mass, the central reality of which is always the sacrifice of Christ, and seeing His once-for-all sacrifice re-presented inspires us to make sacrifices of our own. Men love the concept of sacrifice. We desperately want to be called to it. We don’t want a community meal. We can get that at the local pub.

Removing, or at least downplaying, the sacrificial element has driven men away from the Mass.

Why it Matters

You may be reading this and thinking that I am just ranting away and criticizing everything about the Ordinary Form of the Mass and those who attend it. This simply isn’t true. I love the Mass, and that is why I want it to be the best it can be, an action worthy of its Divine audience.

I took the time to write this post because I believe that transcendent liturgy isn’t an option. It is everything, and as the health of the liturgy goes, so goes the health of the Church.

The Mass is literally the incarnation of the faith. Lex orandi, lex credendi. It is where the faith meets reality in our lives, and where we encounter firsthand the creed. And because of this, there is no more urgent need in the Church than a dramatic return to sacredness in the liturgy. The reason that 50% of Catholics don’t believe in the Real Presence is because the Mass they attend doesn’t tell them about the Real Presence—not just through words, but through reverent and sacred actions.

Specifically relating to men, we can try programs, clubs, books, prayer, etc., but if the liturgy is weak and trite, we won’t love this beautiful reality. We will muddle through it and be half-heartedly engaged at best. Of course, men should go to Mass anyway, but the point is, it won’t inspire us to holiness or great feats of sacrifice.

If we return to sacred and reverent liturgy, I guarantee we will see a new dynamism in the Church: increased conversions, more vocations, and men again taking the lead in matters of faith.

Latin Mass Propers for the Feast of St. Patrick for the dioceses of Ireland

(excluding dioceses of Armagh, Dromore, Kilmore and Ross)

Introit

Egredere de terra tua et de cognatióne tua, et de domo patris tui, et veni in terram quam monstrábo tibi. Faciámque te in gentem magnam. Ps. Confitémini Dómino, et invocate nomen ejus: annuntiáte inter gentes opera ejus. Glória Patris ...

Go forth out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and out of thy father’s house, and come into the land that I shall show thee. And I will make of thee a great nation. Ps Give glory to the Lord and call upon His name: declare His deeds among the gentiles. Glory be to the Father ...

Prayer

O God, who didst vouchsafe to send Blessed Patrick, Thy Confessor and Bishop, to preach thy glory to the nations: grant, through his merits and prayers, that what thou commandst us to do, that same we may, by Thy mercy, be able to accomplish. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ ...

Epistle

From Letter of St Paul to Romans 10:10-18

Brethen, with the heart we believe...

(See Epistle Nov 30^th Feast of St Andrew)

Gradual

Misit ante eos virum: in servum venúmdatus est Joseph. Donec venire verbum ejus. Elóquium Dómini inflammávit eum.

He sent a man before them, Joseph, who was sold as a slave. Until his word came. The word of the Lord inflamed him.

Tract

Ego Dóminus vocávi te in justíta, et apprehéndi manum tuam, et servávi te. Et dedi te in foedus pópuli in lucem géntium. Ut aperíres óculos caecórum et edúceres de conclusion vinctum, de domo cárceris sedéntes in ténebris. Ego Dóminus, hoc est nomen meum: glóriam meam álteri non dabo, et laudem meam sculptílibus.

I the Lord, have called thee in justice, and have taken thee by the hand and preserved thee. And I have given thee for a covenant of the people, for a light to the gentiles. That thou mightiest open the eyes of the blind and bring forth the prisoners out of prison, and them that sit in darkness out of the prison house. I, the Lord, this is my name: I will not give my glory to another, nor my praise to graven things.

Gospel

Continuation of the Holy Gospel according to St Luke 10:1-9

At that time, the Lord appointed also other seventy-two: ...

(See Gospel April 25^th Feast of St. Mark the Evangelist.)

Offertory

Eduxit eum foras, et ait íllí: Súscipe caelum, et númera stellas, si potes. Et dixit ei: Sic erit semen tuum.

And he brought him forth abroad, and said to him: Look up to heaven and number the stars if thou canst. And he said to him: So shall thy seed be.

Secret

May this clean oblation be acceptable unto Thee, O Lord of Hosts, which, as it hath pleased Thee, shall be offered unto the greatness of Thy name among the nations, through the labours of Blessed Patrick, from the rising of the sun even to the going down thereof. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ ...

Preface for weekdays

Communion

Manus Dómini confortávit te, et ídeo eris benedíctus in aetérnum.

The hand of the Lord hath strengthed thee, and therefore thou shalt be blessed for ever.

Postcommunion

O God, who dist ordain the Sacrament of Thy Body and Blood as a pledge of love among the peoples: grant in Thy mercy that those who Thou hast hallowed by the divine mystery may, through the intercession of Blessed Patrick, be knit closer together, day by day, by the bonds of peace and concord. Who livest and reignest...

Glory of Rome: 5 Latin Hymns Every Catholic Should Know

See http://www.stpeterslist.com/7497/glory-of-rome-5-latin-hymns-every-catholic-should-know/

Vatican orders bishops to allow Latin Mass

From: http://press.catholica.va/news_services/bulletin/news/27408.php?index=27408&lang=en#TRADUZIONE%20IN%20LINGUA%20INGLESE

The Instruction on the application of the Motu proprio "Summorum Pontificum (July 7, 2007, entered into force September 14, 2007) was approved by Pope Benedict XVI on April 8 last and is dated April 30, the Memorial feast of St. Pius V, Pope

The Instruction, based on the first words of the Latin text, has been called "Universae Ecclesiae" and is by the Pontifical Commission "Ecclesia Dei", to whom the Pope had entrusted - among other things - the task of supervising the observance and application of the Motu proprio. So it bears the signature of its President, Cardinal William Levada, and Secretary, Msgr. Guido Pozzo.

The document was sent to all bishops in recent weeks. We must remember that "Instructions... clarify the prescripts of laws and elaborate and determine the methods to be observed in fulfilling them" (CIC, can. 34). As indicated in n.12, the instruction is issued "to ensure the correct interpretation and proper application" of the Motu proprio "Summorum Pontificum".

It is only natural that the law contained in the in the Motu proprio be followed by an Instruction on its application. The fact that this should happen now, three years on, is easily explained by recalling that in the letter accompanying the motu proprio the Pope explicitly said to the Bishops: "I invite you to write to the Holy See, three years after the entry into force of this motu proprio. If truly serious difficulties come to light, ways to remedy them can be sought".

Therefore this instruction also contains within it the fruits of the triennial examination of the application of the law, which had been planned from the outset.

The document is written in a simple language and is easy to read. The introduction (nn. 1-8) briefly recalls the history of the Roman Missal until the last edition of John XXIII in 1962, and the new Missal approved by Pope Paul VI in 1970, following the liturgical reform of Vatican II, and reaffirms the fundamental principle that these are "two forms of the Roman Liturgy, defined respectively ordinary and extraordinary: they are two usages of the Roman Rite, one alongside the other. Both are the expression of the same lex orandi of the Church. On account of its venerable and ancient usage, the extraordinary form is to be maintained with appropriate honor". (No. 6).

It also reaffirms the purpose of the motu proprio, divided into the following three points: a) To offer all faithful, the Roman Liturgy in its most ancient usage, considered a precious treasure to be preserved; b) to achieve and really ensure the use of the forma extraordinaria to those who request it c) to favour reconciliation within the Church. (ref. n. 8).

A brief Section of the document (nn. 9-11) recalls the duties and powers of the Ecclesia Dei Commission, upon whom the Pope has "conferred ordinary vicarious power" in the matter. This implies two very important consequences, among others. First, the Commission may decide on appeals that are filed against any action by bishops or other ordinary, which seem contrary to the provisions of the Motu proprio (subject to the possibility of further appeal against the Commission’s decisions at the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Signatura ). In addition, the Commission must, with the approval of the Congregation for Divine Worship, edit any eventual edition of liturgical texts for the forma extraordinaria of the Roman Rite (in the document hope is expressed for the inclusion of new saints and new prefaces, for example).

The normative part of the document (nn. 12-35) contains 23 brief points on various arguments.

It reaffirms the competence of the diocesan bishops in implementing the Motu proprio, recalling that in the event of a dispute about the celebration in forma extraordinaria judgement falls to the "Ecclesia Dei" Commission.

It clarifies the concept of coetus fidelium (in short "group of faithful") stabiliter existens ("stable") who desire to participate in the celebration of the forma extraordinaria. While leaving the assessment of the number of people required for its establishment to the wise judgement of pastors, it states that the group does not necessarily have to be composed of persons belonging to a single parish, but may result from people who come together from different parishes or even from other dioceses. While always taking into account compliance with wider pastoral needs, the Instruction proposes a spirit of "generous welcome" towards groups of faithful who request the forma extraordinaria or priests who request to occasionally celebrate in such a form with some of the faithful.

The clarification (n. 19) according to which the faithful who request the celebration in forma extraordinaria "must not in any way support or belong to groups that show themselves to be against the validity or legitimacy of the Holy Mass or the Sacraments celebrated in the forma ordinaria " or against the authority of the Pope as Supreme Pastor of the universal Church, is most important. This would be in flagrant contradiction to the the motu proprio’s very aim of "reconciliation".

Important indications are also given with regards "qualified priests" to celebrating in forma extraordinaria. Of course he should have no impediments in canonical terms, he must have a sufficient knowledge of Latin and know the rite to be celebrated. Bishops are therefore encouraged to make proper formation for this purpose available in seminaries, and the possibility of recourse, if there are no other qualified priests, to the collaboration of priests from the Institutes set up by the "Ecclesia Dei" Commission (which normally use the forma extraordinaria) is also indicated.

The Instruction stresses how each priest whether secular or religious has license to celebrate the Mass "without the assembly" in the forma extraordinaria if desired. So if it is not a celebration with the assembly , the individual religious do not need permission from their superiors.

This is followed - again, with regards the forma extraordinaria - liturgical rules and regulations relating to the use of liturgical books (such as Roman Ritual, the Roman Pontifical and the Ceremonial of Bishops), the possibility of using the vernacular for the readings (in addition to Latin, or alternatively in the "read Masses"), the possibility of clergy using the Breviary from before the liturgical reform, the possibility of celebrating the Easter Triduum in Holy Week for the groups of faithful who request the ancient rite. With regard to sacred orders, the use of older liturgical books is permitted only in Institutions that depend from the Ecclesia Dei Commission.

Once read the impression remain of a very balanced text, which seeks to promote – as the has Popes intended - the peaceful use of the liturgy that predates the reform by those priests and faithful who feel a sincere desire for their own spiritual good, indeed, which aims to ensure the legitimacy and effectiveness of such use as much as reasonably possible. At the same time the text is animated by faith in the bishops' pastoral wisdom, and insists very strongly on the spirit of ecclesial communion which must be present in everyone - faithful, priests, bishops – so that the purpose of reconciliation, as it is present in the Holy Father's decision, is not impeded or frustrated, but encouraged and achieved.

[00713-02.01] [Original text: Italian]

New Website for Fr. David Jones

There is a new wesite set up to provide information and recordings of the inistry of Fr. David Jones, a hermit who lives in Duleek, Co. Meath and does the Latin Mass everySunday in Staholmog, Co. Meath. The website address is http://www.frdavidjones.com/index. Recordings of his serons and homilies are available through this website.

Latin Mass Propers for the Feast of St. Patrick for the dioceses of Ireland

(excluding dioceses of Armagh, Dromore, Kilmore and Ross)

Introit

Egredere de terra tua et de cognatióne tua, et de domo patris tui, et veni in terram quam monstrábo tibi. Faciámque te in gentem magnam. Ps. Confitémini Dómino, et invocate nomen ejus: annuntiáte inter gentes opera ejus. Glória Patris ...

Go forth out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and out of thy father’s house, and come into the land that I shall show thee. And I will make of thee a great nation. Ps Give glory to the Lord and call upon His name: declare His deeds among the gentiles. Glory be to the Father ...

Prayer

O God, who didst vouchsafe to send Blessed Patrick, Thy Confessor and Bishop, to preach thy glory to the nations: grant, through his merits and prayers, that what thou commandst us to do, that same we may, by Thy mercy, be able to accomplish. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ ...

Epistle

From Letter of St Paul to Romans 10:10-18

Brethen, with the heart we believe...

(See Epistle Nov 30^th Feast of St Andrew)

Gradual

Misit ante eos virum: in servum venúmdatus est Joseph. Donec venire verbum ejus. Elóquium Dómini inflammávit eum.

He sent a man before them, Joseph, who was sold as a slave. Until his word came. The word of the Lord inflamed him.

Tract

Ego Dóminus vocávi te in justíta, et apprehéndi manum tuam, et servávi te. Et dedi te in foedus pópuli in lucem géntium. Ut aperíres óculos caecórum et edúceres de conclusion vinctum, de domo cárceris sedéntes in ténebris. Ego Dóminus, hoc est nomen meum: glóriam meam álteri non dabo, et laudem meam sculptílibus.

I the Lord, have called thee in justice, and have taken thee by the hand and preserved thee. And I have given thee for a covenant of the people, for a light to the gentiles. That thou mightiest open the eyes of the blind and bring forth the prisoners out of prison, and them that sit in darkness out of the prison house. I, the Lord, this is my name: I will not give my glory to another, nor my praise to graven things.

Gospel

Continuation of the Holy Gospel according to St Luke 10:1-9

At that time, the Lord appointed also other seventy-two: ...

(See Gospel April 25^th Feast of St. Mark the Evangelist.)

Offertory

Eduxit eum foras, et ait íllí: Súscipe caelum, et númera stellas, si potes. Et dixit ei: Sic erit semen tuum.

And he brought him forth abroad, and said to him: Look up to heaven and number the stars if thou canst. And he said to him: So shall thy seed be.

Secret

May this clean oblation be acceptable unto Thee, O Lord of Hosts, which, as it hath pleased Thee, shall be offered unto the greatness of Thy name among the nations, through the labours of Blessed Patrick, from the rising of the sun even to the going down thereof. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ ...

Preface for weekdays

Communion

Manus Dómini confortávit te, et ídeo eris benedíctus in aetérnum.

The hand of the Lord hath strengthed thee, and therefore thou shalt be blessed for ever.

Postcommunion

O God, who dist ordain the Sacrament of Thy Body and Blood as a pledge of love among the peoples: grant in Thy mercy that those who Thou hast hallowed by the divine mystery may, through the intercession of Blessed Patrick, be knit closer together, day by day, by the bonds of peace and concord. Who livest and reignest...