Once I was a clever boy learning the arts of Oxford... is a quotation from the verses written by Bishop Richard Fleming (c.1385-1431) for his tomb in Lincoln Cathedral. Fleming, the founder of Lincoln College in Oxford, is the subject of my research for a D. Phil., and, like me, a son of the West Riding. I have remarked in the past that I have a deeply meaningful on-going relationship with a dead fifteenth century bishop... it was Fleming who, in effect, enabled me to come to Oxford and to learn its arts, and for that I am immensely grateful.


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

Monday, 12 December 2016

Gaudete Sunday in Reading


Yesterday I travelled over to Reading for the Mass of Gaudete Sunday at the church of St William of York offered by a priest of FSSP who run the traditional rlte parish based in the church.  I went with a friend who regularly makes the journey to attend EF Masses there.

The train and bus got us there in good time to witness the transformation of the altar from the novus ordo to the traditional arrangement with the very handsome cross and big six which appear on these occasions.

The Mass itself, celebrated in a beautiful rose coloured set of vestments of traditional cut and modern French manufacture, was accompanied by good singing from the voluntary choir and very well attended. More so than on previous visits to St William's was I struck by the wide age range of worshippers.

Afterwards we went, as is our wont on these occasions, with another friend to his home for a fine lunch in very civilised surroundings before returning to Oxford for Vespers at the Oratory.


Tuesday, 3 November 2015

How Far to Extend the Hands at Mass


I thought this post on the Liturgy section of the Zenit website might be of interest to readers, blending historical understanding with issues around liturgical practice:

How Far to Extend the Hands at Mass:
There Are No Strict Specifications


Rome, October 13, 2015 (ZENIT.org) Father Edward McNamara | 8849 hits

Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy and dean of theology at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: One local priest at Mass extends his hands almost to the fullest extent possible, elbows well out from the body; most others keep their elbows close to the body. Are there any official guidelines regarding this gesture? -- O.K., Dallas, Texas

A: Unlike the rubrics of the extraordinary form of the Roman rite, the current rubrics do not give detailed specifications regarding what is meant by "hands extended." This does not mean that they are arbitrary but presume that a priest, through his formation and observation, knows what this expression means and how to apply it in accordance with liturgical tradition and his own physical makeup.

The extraordinary form is much more specific. As one popular ceremonies book describes the gesture at the collect: "While [the priest] says 'oremus' he extends the hands and joins them again, and he bows his head to the missal. Then he reads the collect, holding the hands uplifted -- but not exceeding the height or width of the shoulders -- and extended, the fingers held close together and bowing towards the missal should the name of the saint in whose honor the Mass is celebrated occur. When he says 'Per Dominum nostrum' etc., he joins his hands."

While a priest celebrating the ordinary form may not be strictly bound to these exact norms, I would say that they do provide a good rule of thumb as to what the Church understands when it asks priests to pray with hands extended. These rules were not invented by some obscure 16th-century curial official but are rather the codification of an already existing custom that had developed over several centuries.

A priest could follow the above rule. However, since the post-conciliar liturgy deliberately left out a strict specification of the gesture, it is also legitimate to extend the hands a little further if he considers it appropriate. For example, some modern vestments tend to require a somewhat more ample gesture than the traditional Roman chasuble. The above rule, however, does caution against exaggerated gestures that tend to draw attention toward the celebrant himself and not the prayer he is reciting.

The gesture of extending and raising the hands in prayer is found in some form in almost all religions. In the Bible we have the example of Moses during the battle against Amalek (Exodus 17:11-12), as well as references in the Psalms and prophets. Thus Isaiah declares to Israel: "When you spread out your hands, I will close my eyes to you; / Though you pray the more, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood!" (1:15).

These gestures are also found in the New Testament and the early Christians who prayed with uplifted hands, although here there is the added meaning of being united to Christ who extended his hands on the cross. At the beginning it would appear that the practice was to stretch out both arms and hands to resemble the form of a cross. Thus the early Christian writer Tertullian writes, "But we not only lift them [the hands] up, but even spread them out, modeling them after the Lord's Passion, and, while we pray, we confess Christ" (De Oratione, 14). However, he also warns against exaggerated gestures in this respect: "In praying with modesty and humility, we shall the rather commend our prayers to God, not even our hands being lifted up too high, but being lifted up with moderation and seemliness, not even our face being raised upward with boldness" (De Oratione, 17).

There are also many images in the catacombs and other places showing how early Christians made this gesture. These sometimes represent biblical figures such as Daniel or Susanna or a female figure whom some scholars believe represents the souls of those buried in the catacombs interceding for the living.

Although it is not certain, it is probable that early Christians used this posture for both private and public prayer. As time progressed, however, it gradually became an exclusively priestly gesture, at least within the context of the liturgy. It might have died out due to practical considerations, as the number of Christians expanded, churches became more crowded and there was less space to carry out this gesture.

The gesture of the priest stretching out the arms crosswise in certain parts of the Mass also diminished over time, although it continued in some religious orders such as the Carmelites and Dominicans. In general during the Middle Ages the gesture became similar to current practice: thus the "Micrologus," written in the 11th century says: "We extend our arms at the Collects and during the whole of the Canon but only the breadth of the chest, in such wise that the palms of the hands face each other. The fingers are joined together, and their tips must not reach higher than the shoulders nor exceed their breadth, and this must be observed whenever the hands are to be spread ante pectus. In taking up this attitude the priest shows forth in his person Our Lord upon the Cross."

St. Thomas Aquinas also says that "the actions performed by the priest in Mass are not ridiculous gestures, since they are done so as to represent something else. The priest in extending his arms signifies the outstretching of Christ's arms upon the Cross. He also lifts up his hands as he prays, to point out that his prayer is directed to God for the people, according to Lamentations [3:41]: 'Let us lift up our hearts with our hands to the Lord in the heavens" (III, q. 83, a. 5).

We can thus see that from relatively early the gesture became reserved to the priest, at least in the context of the liturgy, and became the fairly austere gesture we know today. This remains the overall spirit of how this gesture should be carried out in the liturgical context.

The faithful may use this gesture outside the liturgy for private prayer, in prayer groups, and, in those countries where it has been approved, during the recitation of the Our Father during Mass.

Some liturgists believe that this practice is an anomaly. It represents the only occasion when a priest prays with hands extended together with the people. In all other occasions in which he extends his hands, he prays alone in representation of the people. Indeed when the Our Father is recited during the Divine Office the priest has his hands joined and not extended. These experts believe that having the priest extending his hands during Mass was a rubrical oversight from 1958 when Pope Pius XII allowed the Our Father to be recited by the people, in Latin, and not just by the priest as had been the practice hitherto. It was logical for the priest to extend his hands before this change but not afterward. They recommend a change of rubric so that the priest, and people, pray with hands joined.

Others sustain that the Our Father, being the Lord's Prayer, is a special case. For the moment this remains a technical debate; the rubrics specify that the priest and concelebrants pray with hands extended.

Finally, for some of the historical data mentioned in this article, I wish to acknowledge my debt to an article written in 1926 by Joseph F. Wagner for the Homiletic and Pastoral Review and made available online by CatholicCulture.org.

* * *
November 3

Regarding the hypothesis that the norm for the priest to extend hands might have been an oversight, a Dominican priest comments, referring to the rite of that venerable order: "I agree that it should have been abolished as the priest is not praying for the people but with them. And in the 1960 Dominican Rite Holy Week Missal (Ordo Hebdomadae Sanctae iuxta Ritum Ordinis Praedicatorum Instauratus, Romae: Ad S. Sabinae, 1960), p. 67, in the rubrics of Good Friday (the only place where the people joined the priest in the Pater at that date in our rite), it says that the priest recites 'item iunctis manibus' -- the 'item' is there because the rubric for the invocation of the prayer was also 'iunctis manibus.' Obviously some Dominican rubricist understood the logic of the gesture. Sadly, in the last edition of our Missal (1965), the rubric is changed to 'extensis manibus.' So someone must have dedicated to mimic the bad logic of the modified Roman Missal."

Other readers asked if the deacon can extend his hands during the Our Father and if the rite is optional where permitted.

The answer to this depends on the country. In those countries where the bishops' conference, with the approval of the Holy See, has allowed the faithful to extend their hands during the Our Father, this obviously includes the deacon. In countries where the practice does not exist for the faithful it does not apply to the deacon.

However, outside of Mass, if a deacon presides at a communion service in the absence of a priest, he may extend his hands at the prescribed moments.

In all countries where it has been approved it is an option and neither faithful nor the ministers, other than priests, are obliged to carry it out.

* * *

Readers may send questions to zenit.liturgy@gmail.com. Please put the word "Liturgy" in the subject field. The text should include your initials, your city and your state, province or country. Father McNamara can only answer a small selection of the great number of questions that arrive.

(October 13, 2015) © Innovative Media Inc.
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Friday, 7 March 2014

Requiem for King Louis XVI in Paris


Rorate Caeli has a post with a really quite splendid, and beautiful, set of photographs of a Solemn Requiem Mass celebrated last year on 220th anniversary of his death for King Louis XVI in the church of St Eugene in the Archdiocese of Paris. 

The slide show from Flickr on the blog begins part way through the Mass, but if you play it through it comes to what is, I assume, the intended beginning, with pictures of a cataphalque bearing a crown and the riband of the Order of the Holy Ghost. The series continues through the traditional liturgy to the absolutions at the cataphalque and a group image of the altar party. It can be seen at  This is the Mass.

As I commented recently at the beginning of my post Commemorating King Louis XVI French Royalism displays a vitality of which few in this country seem to be aware.



Monday, 26 November 2012

Requiem at St Benet's


I was asked last week by the organiser if I would be willing to be thurifer at an EF Requiem Mass for old members of St Benet's Hall here in Oxford which was planned for this morning. I was happy to help and spent the morning doing so.

We began by meeting at the Oxford Oratory at 9.20 to borrow various pieces of necessary paraphanalia, including four catafalque candlesticks and a thurible, and loading them into his people carrier, along with a moveable footplate for the altar and a table to act as the catafalque which he had brought with him. The short journey to St Benet's accomplished we unloaded this improvised tatmobile and began setting up the simple chapel at the Hall for the Requiem, whilst the schola rehearsed.
Once covered with a black pall and flanked by the candlesticks the otherwise ordinary table made an excellent catafalque.

I then realised we had left the communion plate behind at the Oratory, so I had to change out of my cassock and hurry back to collect that, return down St Giles street, get back into St Benet's - I did not, of course, know the door code - and get back into my cassock and sort out with the other servers who had now arrived who was doing what. We were fortunate in our MC, a brother of the London Oratory, who had travelled up to Oxford with the celebrant, Fr Edward van den Bergh, Cong. Orat., who is himself an old member of the Hall.

The Mass went well until, during the prayers following the Canon the thurible, now safely back in the sacristy, set off the smoke alarm none of us had realised was there...I decided that others knew what to do to overide it and, like a well conducted person, went on calmly saying my prayers.

We retrieved the offending thurible for the absolutions and managed that well in the small amount of space the chapel afforded us.

Afterwards we packed up all our borrowings and returned them by road to the Oratory, making sure we had neither lost nor damaged anything, before joining the celebrant, MC and singers for a convivial lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant, which was generously provided for us all.

Despite the need to transport things to and fro and the irritant of the smoke alarm this was dignified occasion, a prayerful intercession for the departed. I gather it is hoped to make it an annual occasion.