The Relics of St Boethius

The church of San Pietro in Ciel d’Oro in the Italian city of Pavia, which houses the relics of St Augustine, also has those of another Saint, the philosopher and theologian Boethius, whose feast is kept today.

The first page of a later 14th-century manuscript of Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy, showing him as a teacher of philosophy above, and in prison below. 

His full name was Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius; the gens Anicia were a very prominent family in ancient Rome, and there is reason to believe that St Gregory the Great was also descended from it. Boethius was born about 480 A.D., and orphaned in youth; his guardian was a member of another very ancient family, one Quintus Aurelius Symmachus, whose daughter Rusticiana he eventually married. (The Vesper hymn of Ss Peter and Paul was long falsely attributed to a non-existent second wife of his called Elpis.) His life was dedicated to the study of both philosophy and theology, and it was largely through his work as a translator that the early Middle Ages knew what it knew of the writings of Plato and Aristotle, as well as Euclid, Archimedes and others. Several of his theological treatises also survive and there is also a famous letter to him from the writer Cassiodorus in which he asks Boethius to make a sundial and waterclock for the king of the Burgundians.

In the great tradition of the ancient families to which they belonged, Boethius, like his father and father-in-law before him, took an active part in the public life of Italy. By the end of the 5th century, the last Roman Emperor in the West had been removed, and the peninsula was nominally ruled by the Eastern Emperor in Byzantium, but in fact, by the Ostrogothic king Theodoric. Boethius served under Theodoric as the Roman consul in the year 510 A.D., and saw the same ancient honor vested upon his two sons twelve years later. (The fact that they were in their teens shows what the office had been reduced to in reality, but the prestige of it was still very great.) More importantly, he also held the position of the “magister officiorum – the master of the offices,” one of the greatest significance and responsibility.

Shortly thereafter, Theodoric had come to believe that members of the senate in Rome were plotting with the Emperor to overthrow his kingdom and restore direct control of Italy to Byzantium. When one of their number was charged with this conspiracy, Boethius defended him in court, for which he was also accused of the conspiracy, arrested, imprisoned at Pavia, and condemned to death. During his imprisonment of about nine months, he wrote his most famous work, The Consolation of Philosophy, a lengthy dialogue between himself and Philosophy, in which she consoles him for his misfortunes, and teaches him to regard them with what, largely because of this work, we would now call a “philosophical approach.” This exhortation to regard all earthly things as transitory, to value the eternal things which only the mind can apprehend, and to see the world governed by divine wisdom which is always just, was one of the most popular books in the Middle Ages, and many vernacular translations were made of it.

Boethius was murdered in prison in 524, his death preceded by torture, according to the common tradition. His relics were at first buried in the cathedral of Pavia, but later moved to the crypt of St Pietro in Ciel d’Oro. Although his death was essentially a political matter and not inflicted for the Faith, he was popularly venerated as a martyr, since he was unjustly put to death by an Arian heretic. In this sense, he is very similar to the 11th century Princes of the Rus’ Saints Boris and Gleb, also killed for political reasons, but immediately venerated as Saints for their Christ-like acceptance of the injustice inflicted upon them.

The devotion to Boethius as a saint and martyr is still kept in the city of Pavia, and also in the Roman church of Santa Maria in Campitelli, which was founded by his sister-in-law, St Galla. This devotion was confirmed by Pope Leo XIII in 1883. These photos were taken by Nicola de’ Grandi.

The entrance to the crypt, under the main sanctuary.

“The body of St Severinus Boethius, Martyr.”

Next to his relics and altar in the crypt is this well, whose waters are said to have healing properties.

This poetic inscription reads as follows:

Hoc in sarcophago iacet ecce Boetius arto,
Magnus et omnimodo mirificandus homo.
Huncque Sophia suis prae cunctis compsit alumpnis.
Quam sibi grande decus contulit ipse Deus!
Consul enim factus cum natis ipse duobus,
Romae conspicuum et habitus speculum;
Sparsa per Europam vulgant sua dogmata totam.
Quam fuit et merito clarus et ingenio
Nam nobis logicen de graeco transtulit artem,
Commenti gemino quam reserat radio
Catholicae verum fidei dedit et documentum
Et nos informat musica quae resonat.
Qui Theodorico regi delatus iniquo
Papiae senium duxit in exilium
In quo se maestum solans dedit inde libellum
Post ictus gladio exiit e medio.

In this narrow sarcophagus lies Boethius,
A great man, in every way to be marvelled at.
Wisdom adorned him more than all her students;
How great a glory did God Himself bestow (upon him).
For he was made consol, along with his two sons,
Prominent in Rome, an example of decorum.
His teachings are shred through all of Europe;
How famous he was in merit and in genius
For he translated for us the art of logic from the Greek,
Which he clearly explained in two commentaries.
He also gave true proof of the Catholic Faith,
And teaches us how to play music.
Accused before the wicked King Theoderic
He passed his old age in exile at Pavia,
Where he consoled himself in his sadness by writing a book;
Afterwards, the blow of a sword took him away.

The Purification and Ablutions

Lost in Translation #172

After receiving (and distributing) Holy Communion, the priest purifies the sacred vessels and his canonical digits. As Fr. Nicholas Gihr notes, “the exterior act of cleansing the chalice and also his fingers” prompts a meditation on his interior, [1] and thus he prays:

Quod ore sumpsimus, Domine, pura mente capiamus: et de munere temporali fiat nobis remedium sempiternum.

Which I translate as:

Grant, O Lord, that what we have received with our mouth we may take hold of with a pure mind; and out of a temporal gift may it become for us an eternal remedy.

A transition from the physical to the spiritual is a common theme in traditional Catholic prayer. For example, the Postcommunion Prayer for Low Sunday (the Sunday after Easter) is:

Præsta, quaesumus, omnipotens Deus: ut, qui pascalia festa peregimus; haec, te largiente, moribus et vita teneamus. Per Dominum.

Which I translate as:

Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God, that we who have finished the Paschal feasts may, by Thy bounty, hold onto them in our practices and in our life. Through Our Lord.

The prayer also forms a contrast between the receptivity involved in Holy Communion and the activity involved in profiting from it. Capiamus, which we have translated as “take hold of,” is a vigorous verb, meaning to seize, grab, or capture. The contrast calls to mind St. Augustine’s interpretation of the myth of Proteus, the god who, once captured, turned into terrifying deceptive shapes. But if his assailant ignored these appearances and held on to him, Proteus would disclose the truth. For Augustine, the appearances are what the senses grasp and the truth is what the mind grasps. [2] Similarly, in Holy Communion, the mouth senses a wafer but the mind, illumined by Faith, grasps the Real Presence.

Finally, the prayer does not ask that a temporal gift may become an eternal remedy but that the Eucharist may become an eternal remedy from a temporal gift. I must confess that I am perplexed by this construction. If anyone has any ideas, please share in the commentary section.

The 2011 ICEL translation is:

What has passed our lips as food, O Lord,

may we possess in purity of heart,

that what has been given to us in time

may be our healing for eternity.

Next, the priest prays:

Corpus tuum, Domine, quod sumpsi, et Sanguis, quem potavi, adhaereat visceribus meis: et praesta; ut in me non remaneat scelerum macula, quem pura et sancta refecerunt Sacramenta: Qui vivis et regnas in saecula saeculorum. Amen.

Which I translate as:

May Thy Body, O Lord, which I have received, and Thy Blood which I have drunk, stick to my innards; and grant that no stain of sin may remain in me, I who have been fed with this pure and holy Sacrament; Who livest and reignest forever and ever. Amen.

The prayer follows the same pattern of external to internal—although, ironically, the “external” here is the physically internal. As Jungmann notes,

In regard to its contents, this prayer goes a step beyond the preceding one. It does not feature the contrast between the outer sign and the inner efficacy; instead, the Sacrament Itself appears almost as the grace: through that which It contains, It is so pure and so holy that in a certain sense It need only remain in us in order to push aside and burn up all stain of sin.[3]

The prayer also contains a petition that is difficult to translate: adhaereat visceribus meis. Viscera in Latin designates the internal organs of an animal, though it can also be used metaphorically for the flesh. [4] The English equivalent is “bowels,” defined as “the interior or inside of the body.” [5] But unfortunately, “bowels” has been the victim of semantic narrowing in our own day and age: what once meant all the innards, both noble (such as the heart) and less noble, has been reduced to that part of the body which produces excrement. That’s quite a movement.

This migration of language presents a quandary to the modern translator, and yet the biblical use of viscera is unmistakable. Consider the following:

From the Benedictus:

Through the bowels of the mercy of our God, in which the Orient from on high hath visited us. (Luke 1, 78).

And Philippians 1, 8:

For God is my witness, how I long after you all in the bowels of Jesus Christ.

And Colossians 3, 12:

Put ye on therefore, as the elect of God, holy, and beloved, the bowels of mercy, benignity, humility, modesty, patience.

And this choice imperative from Philemon 1, 12, where St. Paul asks Philemon to welcome back the fugitive slave Onesimus:

Whom I have sent back to thee. And do thou receive him as my own bowels.

It is perfectly understandable that modern liturgists would wish to shy away from such gutsy language, for it is likely to induce a snicker rather than a pious response. (The 1970/2002 Roman Missal omits the entire prayer). And yet, to eliminate this language is to feed indirectly the heresy of Gnosticism, with its pronounced discomfort of the body. I am not suggesting that the architects of the Novus Ordo were dyed-in-the-wool Gnostics, but I do raise the question as to whether their genteel bowdlerizations divorce us from the earthy side of our Faith, which is, after all, deeply Incarnational. Paul exults when he speaks from the bowels of Jesus Christ, and perhaps so should we.

Notes

[1] Gihr, 744.

[2] Against the Academics 3.6.13.

[3] Jungmann, vol. 2, 402-403.

[4] “Viscum,” n., Lewis and Short Latin Dictionary, 1.I and 1.I.B.

[5] “Bowel,” n., Oxford English Dictionary, II.2.c.

Saints Nunilo and Alodia, and Their Ivory Reliquary

October 22nd is the feast day of two Spanish virgin martyrs, sisters called Nunilo (or Nunilone) and Alodia, who died on this day in the year 851. Their martyrdom is described in book called the Memorialis Sanctorum, written by a priest of Córdoba named Eulogius, which gives an account of many of the martyrs killed by the Islamic emirs of Córdoba in a persecution that last for about ten years, from 849-59. Eulogius is sometimes referred to as “of Toledo”, because he was canonically elected to that see, but he was never consecrated, being first imprisoned and then martyred about eight years after the two sisters. His feast is kept on March 11.

An altar dedicated to Ss Nunilo and Alodia, in the monastery of Leyre which had their relics for many centuries.

Nunilo and Alodia were born in Huesca, close to the frontier of the lands still held by Christians in the north of Spain, known as the Spanish Marches. Their father was a Muslim, but allowed them to be raised in the faith of their Christian mother. However, when he died, their mother married another Muslim, who was not as tolerant as their father had been, and so they were sent away to live with a Christian aunt in Castile. The girls had decided to remain virgins, and dedicate themselves to the service of God, but the local governor, seeing their great devotion and holiness, decided to try to force them to apostatize. Like many of their illustrious predecessors in the days of the Roman persecutions, they were given over to the custody of women “endowed with knowledge of the profane rites”, as Eulogius delicately puts it. The two young women rejected all enticements to abandon their faith, and all possibility of marriage (presumably to Muslim husbands), and were therefore at last beheaded.

St Eulogius records that their bodies were left to rot in the public forum where they died, with soldiers posted to prevent the Christians from taking them and giving them a decent burial, but that they were nevertheless somehow recovered and kept in a place where “they shine forth with signs and miracles.” About 30 years later, they were translated to the monastery of the Most Holy Savior in the Christian kingdom of Navarre, about 75 miles to the northwest.

At some point during the Reconquista, an elaborately carved ivory casket made in Córdoba just after the turn of the millennium was taken by the Christians, and donated to this monastery, where it was used as a reliquary for the two martyrs. The monastery was suppressed in 1836, and the Saints’ relics were taken to a church in the Canary Islands; the casket is now kept at the Navarre Museum in Pamplona.

Another Admission Against Interest: “Loss of the Collective Memory of Rites”

In law, the term “admission against interest” refers to a statement made out of court by a party, which is regarded as true because it goes against that party’s own interest. Such a statement is regarded as truthful, and may be accepted as an exception to the hearsay rule, because the party would not have said it unless he believed it to be true. I recently highlighted an example of such a statement pertinent to matters liturgical, made by Abp Claudio Maniago, the president of the Centro Azione Liturgica (“Center for Liturgical Action”), an entity of the Italian Bishops’ Conference. In his closing discourse at the CAL’s annual “Liturgy Week” held at the end of August, His Excellency informed his listeners that “we still do not know how to celebrate in such a way as to bring forth the splendor of the liturgy.” (The closing Mass of the conference amply proved that how right he is about that.)

Today, another such statement, likewise pertinent to matters liturgical (and many other things, to be sure) has emanated from a much higher place, the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith. A new document entitled Venite ad me (“Come unto me”, from Matt. 11, 28) has just been published, with its explanatory subtitle “Considerations on the Transmission of the Faith in the Change of Epoch.” (Assuming the Italian text to be the original, the official English version slightly bungles this as “in an Epochal Change”. The French, Spanish, Portuguese and German agree with the Italian.)

In paragraph 94, the last of five in the subsection on Liturgy, we read, “Especially in the West, there is a progressive loss of the collective memory of rites and ritual practices (my emphasis) in favor of a highly radical form of individualism; yet this does not eliminate the anthropological need for rituality, to which human beings have always responded in different ways. The Christian community grows and is built up through ritual practices, and in this regard, the Church’s rich spiritual heritage represents a precious and inexhaustible resource.”

This is an extraordinary admission, an acknowledgement that the post-Conciliar liturgical reform has completely failed to bring to the Church’s rites the “renewed vigor” which Sacrosanctum Concilium looked for, hoping that it would “meet the needs and circumstances of modern times.” Obviously, if it had succeeded in doing so, there would not be such a “progressive loss of the collective memory of rite and ritual practices.”

Even more extraordinary is the acknowledgement, not in complimentary terms, that this progressive loss of the collective memory of rites has been replaced by a highly radical individualism, since radical individualism is one of the foundational principles of the post-Conciliar liturgical reform. No prior historical Christian rite ever gave the individual priest and his chosen collaborators so much latitude to fill the liturgy with their individual ideas and creative choices, belying the very purpose of a rite. And of course, no prior reform of the liturgy ever canceled so many rites and ritual practices so long instilled in the life of the Christian community.

It is very encouraging, therefore, to read the last sentence of that paragraph, which states that “the Church’s rich spiritual heritage represents a precious and inexhaustible resource,” a statement which reminds us of some very wise and justly very famous words of Pope Benedict XVI: “What earlier generations held as sacred, remains sacred and great for us too, and it cannot be all of a sudden entirely forbidden or even considered harmful. It behooves all of us to preserve the riches which have developed in the Church’s faith and prayer, and to give them their proper place.” Hopefully, this weekend’s Summorum Pontificum pilgrimage will inspire the Holy Father and his collaborators to recognize that that proper place is not in the dustbin of history.

A Catholic editorial cartoon from 1967, by which time, the fact had become too obvious to ignore that the Barque of the Church was shipping in some very rough seas. But since any and all course correction had been deemed unthinkable, the cartoonist therefore simply declared that “It’ll Make Port”; no need to ask difficult questions like “In what condition?” or “With how many of the passengers still on board?”

The Legend of Saint Ursula

The annals of Catholic hagiography contain many legends which are recorded in documents written long after the lifetimes of various Saints, but which per se present no particular challenge to the credulity of anyone who believes in a personal God and the reality of miracles. Many Saints have lived in such a way that we would not expect to find material proof of their doings, any more than we would expect to find a first-century shop with a sign over the door reading “Joseph son of Jacob, Carpenter.” For such as these, we must trust to Providence, the good faith of their biographers, and the Church’s tradition.

There are others, however, which even a very basic knowledge of history demonstrates cannot be accepted as reliable; such a one is the legend of St Ursula and Companions, Virgins and Martyrs at Cologne in Germany, whose feast is kept today. The vast collection of hagiographical learning known as the Acta Sanctorum devotes 230 pages of small type to parsing out how their legend developed from a single inscription in a church in that city into a famously extravagant story. Here we can give only a brief summary of the case; a fairly thorough account is given in the relevant article in the Catholic Encyclopedia.

The Martyrdom of St Ursula, by Caravaggio, 1610, generally believed to be his last work. The Saint is shown at the very moment she is struck in the breast by an arrow, an example of the vivid realism for which Caravaggio was praised by many as the greatest painter of his times.

The inscription in question, made in the later fourth or early fifth century, states that a man of senatorial rank named Clematius restored a basilica in Cologne “in the place where the holy virgins shed their blood,” with no further details. The fact that it was “restored” should be taken as an indication that a martyrdom of some Christian virgins did take place before that period. Five centuries later, an anonymous sermon says that nothing was known of them for certain, but gives the local tradition that they were a large company, and their leader’s name was “Pinnosa.” They are absent from many early liturgical manuscripts where one would reasonably expect to find record of a martyrdom as spectacular as the later legend tells it, but an early martyrology mentions Saints Martha, Saula and companions at Cologne on October 20th. Other documents give a variety of names and numbers, including “Ursula”; it is not known how she came to be thought of as the foremost among them, nor how the number 11,000 was eventually settled on as the size of the group. It is possible that an abbreviation such as “XI M.V.” for “undecim martyrum virginum – eleven virgin martyrs” was misunderstood as “undecim millia virginum – eleven-thousand virgins.”

The Clematius inscription, now in the Basilica of St Ursula in Cologne, built in the 12th century over the site where the putative relics of the Virgin Martyrs were discovered.

Their passion as told in the later tenth century is summarized as follows in the revised Butler’s Lives of the Saints. “Ursula, the daughter of a Christian king in Britain, was asked in marriage by the son of a pagan king. She, desiring to remain unwed, got a delay of three years, which time she spent on shipboard, sailing about the seas; she had ten noble ladies-in-waiting, each of whom, and Ursula, had a thousand companions, and they were accommodated in eleven vessels. At the end of the period of grace, contrary winds drove them into the mouth of the Rhine, they sailed up to Cologne and then on to Bâle (Basle in Switzerland), where they disembarked and then went over the Alps to visit the tombs of the apostles at Rome. They returned by the same way to Cologne, where they were set upon and massacred for their Christianity by the heathen Huns, Ursula having refused to marry their chief. The barbarians were dispersed by angels, the citizens buried the martyrs and a church was built in their honor by Clematius.”

The inherent logistic improbabilities of assembling and moving such a company are obvious, especially given the chaos of the mid-5th century, to which the medieval legend assigns their martyrdom at the hands of the Huns. In the year 1155, a large cemetery was discovered at Cologne, and the remains therein were accepted as the relics of the 11,000, notwithstanding the presence of many men and children among them. A later elaboration identified both the epitaph and relics of “Pope Cyriacus”, who, after receiving the future martyrs in Rome, abdicated the papacy in order to accompany them back north, where he shared in their martyrdom. This version goes on to say that the cardinals, displeased at the abdication, later expunged his name from the catalog of the Popes, bringing the story down to the grotesque level of the Pope Joan legend; but this absurdity is even found in a breviary printed in 1529 for the use of the Franciscans.

Relics of the 11,000 displayed in the crypt of the Basilica of St Ursula at Cologne, known as the Golden Chamber.

Devotion to these Saints was very strong in the Middle Ages, despite the reservations of scholars who identified the incongruities and anachronisms in their legend. Among the Premonstratensians, who took their liturgical use from the area around Cologne, their feast was celebrated with an octave until the early 20th century. St Angela Merici gave the name “Ursulines” to the religious congregation she founded in 1535, the very first women’s teaching order, and before that, Christopher Columbus chose to honor them in the naming of the Virgin Islands. In the Tridentine liturgical books, however, they are treated with great reserve, kept only as a commemoration on October 21, the feast of the abbot St Hilarion; St Ursula is mentioned by name, but no number of her companions is given. It is supremely ironic that they should share their feast day with a Saint whose life is quite well documented, by no less a personage than St Jerome; however, neither feast was retained on the Calendar of the post-Conciliar reform.

St Ursula and Companions, depicted on the rood screen of the church of Ss Peter and Paul in Eye, Suffolk, England. Photo courtesy of Dr Simon Cotton. 

Numbering as they do in the thousands, their putative relics have been given to churches all over the world. In 1489, the Hospital of St John in the city of Bruges received a portion of them, and commissioned the painter Hans Memling to make a shrine in which to house them, one of his masterpieces. The Gothic shrine has six panels on the two sides showing the story of the Saints.

The Arrival of the 11,000 at Cologne (left), Basel (middle), and Rome (right), where they are greeted by Pope Cyriacus. (Click images to enlarge) In the background of the Cologne scene is depicted the cathedral with its unfinished bell-towers; work on the towers was broken off in 1473 and not resumed until 1842, and the bells installed in the 1870s. The crane on one of the towers remained a landmark of the city for hundreds of years.

The company departs from Basel (left); the group is martyred (center); the martyrdom of St Ursula (right).

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Back in Print: A Revealing Diary by Ferdinando Antonelli Documenting the Consilium’s Actual Operation

Based on the diaries and notes of Ferdinando Cardinal Antonelli, a pivotal figure in the Catholic Church’s liturgical reform movement for over twenty years, Nicola Giampietro’s The Development of the Liturgical Reform reveals many important details about the forceful personalities that drove the process from Pius XII to Paul VI, the systems and methods by which decisions were made, and the competing principles invoked, with at times chaotic results.
Like his collaborators Fr. Louis Bouyer and Fr. Boniface Luykx, Antonelli had an insider’s grasp of the personnel, dynamics, and designs. He witnessed firsthand the good, the bad, and the ugly. For example, here are some of his assessments of aspects of the reformers’ work: “[The Consilium] is merely an assembly of people, many of them incompetent, and others of them well advanced on the road to novelty. The discussions are extremely hurried. Discussions are based on impressions and the voting is chaotic. What is most displeasing is that the expositive Promemorias and the relative questions are drawn up in advanced terms and often in a very suggestive form. The direction is weak.” (166-67) “Many of those who have influenced the reform... have no love and no veneration of that which has been handed down to us. They begin by despising everything that is actually there. This negative mentality is unjust and pernicious, and unfortunately, Paul VI tends a little to this side. They have all the best intentions, but with this mentality they have only been able to demolish and not to restore.” (192) “While I would like to be mistaken, I can say that [Bugnini’s] greatest lacuna was his lack of any theological training or sensibility. This was a grave defect and lacuna because in the liturgy, every word and every gesture expresses a theological idea. I have the impression that much has been conceded to the Protestant mentality, especially in matters regarding the sacraments.” (196) It’s this kind of information that the defenders of the post-Conciliar reform don’t want you to see: the admissions, from within, of all that went wrong. No wonder we are still suffering the consequences decades later. In the interests of transparency, I should mention that this is not really a “sensationalistic” book. It’s pretty technical and detailed, a sort of blow-by-blow account of various stages of reform, and Antonelli in the end was not an outspoken critic of the Novus Ordo. But it does contain a lot of valuable information for those who are serious students of the liturgy. 
Originally published in 2009 by Roman Catholic Books and out of print for some time (it was first mentioned here at NLM in January 2010), Os Justi Press is pleased to add this new edition of Giampietro to its growing Studies in Liturgical History and Reform series, where it joins Le Brun des Marettes, Guéranger, and Hazell. Available in paperback and hardcover from the publisher or from any Amazon outlet. I talk about the book in this video:

Two Recent Glagolitic Masses

Our thanks once again to our friend Danijel Uremović for his account of two Masses recently celebrated according to the Glagolitic Missal, one in Australia and one in the Czech Republic.

Following the positive reception of the Glagolitic High Mass held in Sydney for the feast of the Precious Blood earlier this year, it was only a matter of time before the Croatian Catholic community of Australia would organise its next celebration according to the “Vajs Missal”. Up to (at least) the end of the year, a series of monthly sung Glagolitic Masses will be offered, the first having been fittingly, for the feast of Saint Jerome, patron of Dalmatia and an important figure in the history of the Glagolitic tradition.

The Mass was celebrated, as before, by Fr. Mateusz Markiewicz IBP, and planned with the help of the newly founded Glagolitic Heritage Society (www.glagolitic.org). Unlike the previous celebration, which took up more conventionally Gregorian melodies for its ordinary and propers, the Mass for St Jerome enjoyed a mix of more typically “Glagolitic” propers, alongside an ordinary that echoed certain motifs of the better known (simple) Te Deum chant. While the early twentieth century printing of this ordinary gives no explanation of its origin, later editions describe it as a “Dalmatian chant”. However accurate this particular designation is, it does reflect an historical fact of Glagolitic chant, namely as an intersection of musical traditions. On the one hand, “Glagolitic” chant never enjoyed the same degree of organisation that its Latin counterpart did. Chants varied regionally and, in the case of propers, were often limited to a couple of repeated variants taken up in accordance with the solemnity of the day’s celebration. On the other hand, however, the state of the Glagolitic repertoire was not a result of distance from the Latin tradition. Indeed, much Glagolitic liturgical and paraliturgical music developed in imitation of Latin-language chants or as a play on them, so that the most recent Sydney celebration was quite in keeping with historical practice.

Interestingly, in both Slavonic and Latin Missals used around Jerome’s Dalmatian homeland, a proper Mass is given his feast. While his geographical origins lend him quite naturally to his Dalmatian patronage, the question of his association with the Glagolitic tradition is far more controversial. While the doctrina Methodiana once stood as a shorthand for questionable novelty, tracing the origins of the Glagolitic script and its associated liturgy back to Saint Jerome offered far greater legitimacy for later defenders of the western Slavonic heritage. Although there is certainly some element of a pia fraus in this story, there remains a legitimate sense in which Jerome in fact became the patron of the Glagolitic tradition.

Such are the happenings among the Croatian diaspora in Australia. However, only a couple days before the Sydney Mass, for the feast of St Wenceslaus, Fr Jakub Václav Zentner FSSP offered a Slavonic Mass at the chapel of Bl. Podiven in Stará Boleslav, Czechia. This celebration also ties up with the reception of his doctorate for his research on “Slavonic as a Liturgical Language of the Roman Rite”

Fr Zentner has studied and celebrated the Slavonic liturgy for many years, and his edition of the Glagolitic Order of Mass can be ordered online: https://fssp.cz/glagolsky-mesni-rad-podle-rimskeho-misalu-staroslovensky/. Though a story for another time, Czechia, unknown to many, enjoys its own part within the Glagolitic story, not least for producing the editor of the 1927 Rimski Misal, Josef Vajs.

With so much international interest in the Slavonic liturgy, both on Slavic soil and in the diaspora, it was a logical choice to finally begin organising both the written material and interested people in a more intentional and focused effort to preserve and promote the Glagolitic tradition. For this reason, the Glagolitic Heritage Society, mentioned above, was formed. Their work brings together experts across liturgical, linguistic, and musical disciplines to help make key resources more accessible. While the first half of the twentieth century saw promising renewal through the publication of important liturgical books, musical editions, and historical and philological studies, the fragmentary nature of these publications, alongside the inherent difficulties of the Slavonic language, and changing political and ecclesial climates, would see the greater part of these efforts put on hold. The Society’s goal is to begin slowly picking up where things left off. Though still in its early stages, those interested in supporting or following the work of the Society can subscribe to its newsletter here: www.glagolitic.org, and following its online presence on Instagram.

Photos from Sydney by Nikola Rimac

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Portable Altars Through the Centuries

Guest post by Fr Andrew Marlborough

Here is the latest piece from Fr Andrew Marlborough, a priest of the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest, based in Germany. He has continued to scour auction houses and museum catalogs on both sides of the Atlantic for interesting pieces of liturgical furnishings. Fr Andrew writes:

Some of you may have seen the articles I wrote previously about portable altars. One of these detailed the design and manufacture of a new portable altar. The other article looked at historical examples used by military chaplains in the two World Wars.

Since then, I have conducted further research and monitored examples on the open market. This has been fascinating and has revealed a longer, more established tradition than I initially realized, as well as a wide variety of designs.

The tradition of portable altars began in earnest during the Medieval period. Surviving examples from this time are very rare and often in museums. For these early pieces, I would direct readers to the excellent work of Dr. Sarah C. Luginbill. She has cataloged more than 120 medieval portable altars, as well as studying 20th-century examples used by military chaplains. For more information, see her website: www.medievalportablealtars.com

What follows is a selection of examples from the 16th century to the 20th century. The first group are table-top altars and are far more portable. The second group are full pieces of furniture which can be more or less easily transported to different locations.

The first table-top example is a rather crude but historically important 16th century English portable altar. Its significance derives from its use by missionary priests under persecution during the English Reformation. It originates from Devon, and Bishop Vaughan of Plymouth gave it to Charles Weld in 1874. The Welds were an important recusant family who later built the shrine to Our Lady, Queen of Martyrs and St Ignatius at Chideock in Dorset. The family still cares for this beautiful little church, which has a small museum where the portable altar is kept.

Photo credit: Chideock Church

The basic design appears similar to late medieval table-top box designs. It is designed to sit on a surface and open for us. The lifting cover reveals a mensa with an integral altar stone. The interior cover functions as a reredos with applied altar cards. Below the mensa is a cavity for storage of sacred vessels and other items. It is compact, measuring around 70cm x 30cm x 15cm when closed.

The next example is a more sophisticated 18th-century tabletop piece made for Spanish royal patronage. It is currently housed in the Royal Academy of Fine Arts of San Fernando in Spain. It is a rare documentary piece bearing the signature of the court painter, Andres de la Calleja (1705-1785), and is dated 1734. Interestingly, Calleja also manufactured other portable altars. This shows the popularity of these objects and a certain specialization in manufacture.

(Credit: Royal Academy of Fine Arts of San Fernando)

The whole structure is finer and more ornate than other extant table-top altars. It is also large for this type, measuring 224cm in length. When closed, the box is ornately decorated with studwork and locks, and carries handles at each end. The top opens to reveal a sumptuous velvet-lined interior with a painted reredos triptych by Calleja. The central panel shows the Trinity and Holy Family with Saints Anne and Joachim. The right panel depicts Saint Francis, and the left panel shows Saint Anthony of Padua.

The challenge of making a portable altar is creating the aesthetic of a full-sized altar, and the necessary ritual space, in a compact size. This can range from very simple practical examples to highly ornate pieces. The Spanish altar above represents a high point of this type. It could be fruitful to study the other portable altars by Andres de la Cajella in more depth.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

The Proper Office of the Evangelists

In the Roman Breviary, the Evangelists are treated liturgically as a subcategory of the Apostles, and their common office consists solely of proper readings for Matins; everything else is said from the common of Apostles. This in part reflects the habitual conservatism of the church of Rome, which was always much slower to accept new proper Offices, and is partly due to the fact that a proper Office for the Evangelists has only a very limited application.

St Luke the Evangelist, whose feast we keep today, depicted in the Gospel book of St Henry II, ca. 1000

Nevertheless, there does exist such a proper, which is found in most medieval Uses, including those of the Dominican, Carmelite and Premonstratensian Orders. It has a complete set of nine proper antiphons for the psalms of Matins, five for the Psalms of Lauds (repeated through the day hours and at Vespers) and the three major antiphons for the Magnificat of both Vespers and for the Benedictus at Lauds. It also includes nine responsories, all texts from the vision of the four animals in the first chapter of Ezekiel, which also provides the readings for the first nocturn of Matins and the Mass Epistle of Ss Matthew and Mark. These responsories were not received by the Dominicans, and I do not include them here, since they aren’t particularly interesting.

Ad Matutinum

In I nocturno

Aña 1 Convocatis * Jesus duodecim Apostolis, misit illos praedicare regnum Dei: egressi autem evangelizabant et curabant ubique. - Calling together the twelve Apostles, Jesus sent them to preach the kingdom of God; and going forth, they preached the Gospel and everywhere wrought cures.
Aña 2 Mittens Dominus * et alios ad praedicandum, dicebat illis: Messis quidem multa, operarii autem pauci. - The Lord, sending also others to preach, said to them: The harvest is great, but the workers are few.
Aña 3 Jesu Christi * Domini gratia, credentibus populis Doctores et Evangelistae sunt in ministerium fidei missi. - By the grace of Jesus Christ the Lord, Doctors and Evangelists were sent to the peoples that believe for the ministry of the Faith.

In II nocturno

Aña 4 Sapientia Domini * Evangelii eruperunt abyssi, et annuntiantes, foecundati rore caelesti, mundo intonant. - By the wisdom of the Lord the depths of the Gospel burst forth, and made fruitful by the dew of heaven, thunder their proclamation to the world.
Aña 5 Labia eorum * salutarem disseminaverunt scientiam, opus sanctum, dignum, benedictione plenum fecerunt: ministerium sibi traditum devote impleverunt. - Their lips spread abroad the knowledge of salvation; they did a holy work, worthy and full of blessing; devoutly they fulfilled the ministry given to them.
Aña 6 Elegit eos * ex omni carne et dedit illis praecepta, et legem vitae et disciplinae. - He chose them from among all flesh, and gave them precepts, and the law of life and discipline.

In III nocturno

Aña 7 Electi sunt * in Christo ante mundi constitutionem, ut essent sancti et immaculati in conspectu Dei in caritate. - They were chosen in Christ before the establishment of the world, that they might be holy and immaculate in God’s sight in charity.
Aña 8 Sapientiam eorum * narrabunt omnes populi, et laudem eorum pronuntiat omnis Ecclesia sanctorum. - All peoples shall tell of their wisdom, and all the Church of the Saints proclaims their praise.
Aña 9 Sapientiam antiquorum * exquisierunt sancti Evangelistae, et prophetarum dictis narrationem suam confirmaverunt. - The holy Evangelists sought out the wisdom of the ancients, and by the sayings of the prophets, confirmed their narration.

Ad Laudes

Aña 1 Dilecti Deo * et hominibus sancti Evangelistae, qui ordinaverunt tempora Christi bono odore, usque ad consummationem vitae. - Beloved unto God and men are the holy Evangelists, who set in order the times of Christ in a good odor, until the completion of His life.
Aña 2 Dederunt * in celebratione operis sancti decus: ideo memoria eorum in benedictione est in sæculum sæculi. - They gave glory in the celebration of a holy work; therefore their memory is in blessing for all ages.
Aña 3 Implevit eos * Dominus Spiritu sapientiae et intellectus; jucunditatem et exsultationem thesaurizavit super eos. - The Lord filled them with the Spirit of wisdom and understanding; He gathered rejoicing and exultation upon them.
Aña 4 Ex omni corde * laudaverunt nomen sanctum Domini, ut amplificarent nomen sanctitatis. - From all their heart they praised the holy name of the Lord, that they might magnify the name of holiness.
Aña 5 Datum est * opus eorum in veritate; ideo in terra sua duplicia possidebunt, et lætitia sempiterna erit eis in Christo. - Their work was given in truth; therefore in their land they shall have a double portion, and eternal happiness in Christ.

Detail of the St John Altarpiece by Hans Memling, 1474-79, showing the vision of St John in Apocalypse 4.

Ad Magn. Aña Ecce ego Joannes vidi ostium apertum in caelo; et ecce sedes posita erat in eo, et in medio sedis et in circuitu ejus quattuor animalia plena oculis ante et retro: et dabant gloriam et honorem et benedictionem sedenti super thronum, viventi in saecula saeculorum.
At the Magnificat of First Vespers Behold, I, John, saw a door opened in heaven, and behold there was a throne set in heaven, and in the midst of the throne, and round about it were four living creatures, full of eyes before and behind; and they gave glory, and honor, and blessing to him that sitteth on the throne, who liveth for ever and ever.

Ad Bened. Aña In medio et in circuitu sedis Dei quattuor animalia senas alas habentia, oculis undique plena, non cessant nocte ac die dicere: Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus Dominus Deus omnipotens, qui erat et qui est, et qui venturus est.
At the Benedictus In the midst and round about the throne of God, four living creatures, having wings, full of eyes on all sides, rest not day and night, saying: Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and who is, and who is to come.

Ad Magn. Aña Tua sunt haec, Christe, opera, qui sanctos tuos ita glorificas, ut etiam dignitatis gratiam in eis futuram praeire miraculis facias: tu insignes Evangelii praedicatores animalium caelestium admirabili figura praesignasti: his namque caeleste munus collatum gloriosis indiciis es dignatus ostendere: hinc laus, hinc gloria tibi resonet in saecula.
At the Magnificat of Second Vespers These are Thy works, o Christ, who so glorify Thy Saints, that Thou also cause the grace of dignity that will be in them to be first preceded by miracles. Thou marked beforehand the wondrous preachers of the Gospel by the marvelous figure of the heavenly animals; for by these glorious signs, Thou deigned to show the heavenly gift given to them; hence let praise, hence glory resound to Thee forever.

“Mystic Rose in God’s Fair Garden Growing”: Dr. Kwasniewski’s New Book on the Blessed Virgin Mary

In this month of the Most Holy Rosary, I am delighted to announce my new book: Mystic Rose in God’s Fair Garden Growing: Our Lady on Prayer, the Mass, and Union with Christ, published by Arouca Press.

The Blessed Virgin Mary is the authoritative guide to living the Christian faith – above all, when it comes to its pulsing heart, the Holy Mass. Mystic Rose weaves together theological, liturgical, and devotional insights into Our Lady, drawing out the subtle splendors of the Holy Rosary and its intimate kinship with the Latin Mass, discovering unsuspected riches in the familiar Leonine prayers, unfolding the meaning of select Marian feasts and apparitions, and specifying the obligations a Catholic has toward approved private revelations. For NLM readers it should be pointed out that there is abundant discussion of the liturgy in this volume, even if that is not its primary focus.

Nor do I shy away from controversial questions, such as: why Fatima deserves to be accepted and Medjugorje rejected; how the vision of Knock provides a key to understanding the crisis through which we are passing; why the traditional Roman Rite is profoundly Marian in its principles and practice, whereas the modern rite imposed in 1969 is anti-Marian, endangering the Church’s vocation as virgin, bride, and mother; and why the Holy Theotokos should be held and hailed as mediatrix of all graces and co-redemptrix.

And since the Queen of Heaven is “all beautiful,” the book pays her loving homage with dozens of full-color artworks to nourish the imagination.

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Domenico Zipoli, A Jesuit Baroque Composer

The Baroque composer Domenico Zipoli was born on this day in 1688, in the Italian city of Prato, about 12 miles to the north-west of Florence. After his early training at the cathedral of his native city, and brief stints in Florence, Rome, Naples (where he studied with one of the most important composers of the era, Alessandro Scarlatti), and finally Bologna, Zipoli returned to Rome in 1710, and became the organist of one of the city’s oldest and most important churches, Santa Maria in Trastevere, at the age of only 22. About 3½ years later, he moved to the main Roman church of the Jesuit Order, the Gesù, but within a year, he decided to join the Society, and moved to Seville in Spain. As a novice, he was sent to Buenos Aires in what is now Argentina, and from there to Córdoba, where he completed his studies, but was never ordained, since there was no bishop available at the time to ordain him. There he served once again as the organist of the Jesuit church, and continued to write music.

The Jesuit church in Córdoba, Argentina. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Albano Azarian, CC BY-SA 3.0)

His fame as a composer spread throughout South America; the Spanish Viceroy in Lima wrote to Córdoba, which is over 2,000 miles away, to request copies of his works, which are also found in the musical archives of many of the reducciones. (For a sense of perspective, Zipoli himself had less distance to travel to get from Rome to Seville.) After contracting tuberculosis, he died on January 2nd of 1726, at the age of only 38, so this year marked the third centenary of his death.

Here are two examples of his work, a long Mass composed for the feast of St Ignatius of Loyola, and a Missa brevis.

A Tour of the Parkminster Charterhouse

Here is a very happy discovery, courtesy of the YouTube suggestion algorithm, a video which gives a tour of the Charterhouse of St Hugh, the only Carthusian monastery in England, located in the town of Parkminster in West Sussex. The priest giving the tour, Fr Christopher Basden of the archdiocese of Southwark, is very knowledgeable about the Carthusian Order and its history and traditions, and I am sure all of our readers will find this very much worth their time.

A second video from the same channel takes us to one of the cells. As Fr Basden explains in the first video, Parkminster has an unusually large number of cells for a Charterhouse, in part because it was built to accommodate Carthusians who were being expelled from the monasteries in France.

Review of Abbé Claude Barthe, The Seven Sacraments, Past and Present: A Short Critical Study of the New Rituals

Most of the debates about the post-conciliar liturgical reforms have centered around the new order of the Mass. The Consilium in charge of implementing the directives of the Second Vatican Council, however, instituted sweeping changes across the entire liturgical spectrum, including all seven sacraments, the Rituale Romanum, etc. And not surprisingly, all the changes bespeak a similar mentality.

To introduce the reader to how extensive these changes were, Rev. Claude Barthe, author of a dozen books on theology or liturgy, wrote in 2025 Les sept sacrements d’hier à aujourd’hui: Bref examen critique des nouveaux rituels, which has now been translated by Karen Darantière under the title, The Seven Sacraments, Past and Present: A Short Critical Study of the New Rituals and published by Os Justi Press.

In an Appendix on page 100, Barthe summarizes his critique. For this review, I take each relevant sentence from this paragraph and expand upon them.

Baptism

The new baptismal ritual, taken as a whole, weakens the notion of Christ’s battle against the devil who enslaves the soul due to the original sin that defiles it.

Barthe sees the new rite as bloated in quantity, anemic in quality. The lengthier rite includes its own Liturgy of the Word and homily, yet it has little to say, especially where original sin and the devil are concerned. It has a less sacred, less urgent tone; and instead of ensuring that the catechumen wins the battle against Satan, it is more concerned about welcoming him into the community.

Confirmation

The traditional sacrament of confirmation is characterized by a ritual at once sober and solemn, due to the presence of the bishop, who ‘speaks’ in his own right with great eloquence. The new ritual for confirmation, on the other hand, presents itself as a joyful celebration” (22).

The old rite focuses on the fact that an indelible mark is being conferred on the soul, thereby confirming the mark made at Baptism, and that this confirmation enlarges the soul and helps it attain spiritual adulthood. But everything about the new rite panders to “the state of mind of today’s children and adolescents.” The new rite is beset with “optionitis” (to borrow Kwasniewski’s term) and a wide latitude for adaptation along with rubrical language encouraging joy, as if all liturgies should be happy-clappy. And the bishop is allowed to replace the ritual of gently striking the candidate’s cheek (a substitute for the Kiss of peace and a symbol of the candidate’s becoming a soldier of Christ) with a wimpy “gesture of friendship.”

The Eucharist

The flaw of the new missal is that it expresses more weakly, in comparison with the missal it was intended to replace, not only the sacrificial character of the Eucharist but also the distinctive nature of the hierarchical priesthood, the transcendence of the action that takes place within this rite, and the adoration due to the Real Presence.

Barthe expands:

It is obvious that a significant number of elements of the traditional missal were removed or replaced, resulting in a profound transformation: the abandonment of a prescriptive ritual, a multiplication of options (for example, there are now fourteen official Eucharistic prayers), celebration in most cases facing the people, the general use of vernacular languages, freedom to issue instructions and comments, an increased emphasis on words (almost always spoken aloud) to the detriment of ritual and sacral secrecy, a weakened reverence for the Eucharist, a feebler expression of the hierarchical priesthood, desacralization through the adoption of a number of gestures and customs from everyday life, and above all, a diminished manifestation of the reality of the sacramental sacrifice. All of this has led to a shift in appearances from a memorial to a mere memorial and nothing more.

Ordination

The new ritual of ordination impoverishes the symbolism of the ceremony concerning priests and eliminates the minor orders and the subdiaconate.

If the rite of the Mass is impoverished, it is not surprising that the rite of ordination, to which the priesthood is ordered, should follow suit. The new rite is missing several symbolic actions and prayers, including the injunction: “Receive the power to offer sacrifice to God and to celebrate Mass for the living as well as for the dead.”

Moreover, in 1972 Pope Paul VI called for the abolition of five of the six traditional orders leading to the priesthood: tonsure (not an order per se but an initiation into the clerical state); the four minor orders of porter, lector, exorcist, and acolyte; and the major order, the subdiaconate, which has been around since before the Council of Nicaea in A.D. 325. These the Pope replaced with the “instituted ministries” of acolyte and lector. The Pope, in an Orwellian turn, secularized sacred orders.

Matrimony

The new ritual of marriage lapses into overly verbose formulas and eliminates the great consecratory blessing of the bride.

For Barthe, the new rite is too prolix, the effect of which is to make “the exchange of consent less straightforward and more sentimental. And the Solemn Nuptial Blessing, “the oldest in the entire wedding ceremony,” was the “equivalent to the consecratory prefaces for bishops, priests, abbots, and virgins.” Yet this consecration was all but eliminated in the new rite.

Penance

Barthe notes that the old rite was designed for an age in which there were long confession lines, with an emphasis on the priest’s rendering a judgment before issuing mercy. The new rite, on the other hand, is more “leisurely”; in the French version of the Ordo paenitentiae, the penitent is encouraged to pick a reading from Holy Scripture. “Based on this text, he will say what calling he has perceived, and the priest will then be able to initiate the dialogue.” Barthe also criticizes vernacular translations for watering down the sense of satisfaction and of absolution.

As for the new normative Latin text, Barthe has two criticisms: first, that the prayer for absolution was changed from a crystal-clear formula to something less forceful; and second, that they omitted a beautiful prayer preceding the absolution. Of all the rites reviewed, penance seems to have fared the best, for Barthe’s major criticisms concern the rite’s adaptation and other circumstantial developments, such as a penchant for abusing collective reconciliation ceremonies.

Extreme Unction

The new ritual of the anointing of the sick devalues the sacramentum extremae unctionis into a celebration for the elderly.

Barthe argues that this sacrament underwent the greatest change and with the least controversy. By the Carolingian era (and subsequently affirmed by the Council of Trent), the sacrament was “to eliminate the penalties for sins already forgiven and even mortal sins themselves” under certain conditions, and was especially for the dying. Following Vatican II, the sacrament was now for anyone who was sick; any vegetable oil rather than olive oil could be used for the anointing; and these “anointings were now performed only on the head and hands, which removed the symbolism of recalling sins committed through the various senses and through bodily activity.” The formula was drastically abridged so that the exorcism/sanctification of the five bodily senses was eliminated, and likewise, all allusions to the devil and Hell were removed from the prayers for the soul’s commendation.

The result is a sacrament that “deritualizes” and “desacralizes” death and reflects the modern avoidance of death, which “medicalizes” our passage to the next life and relegates it to hospitals at precisely the moment when modern man needs to be shaken out of his utopian delusions for the sake of his immortal soul.

The Seven Sacraments also includes an Introduction in which Barthe argues that one cannot pick-and-choose but must either accept the new liturgy or reject it in its entirety; a Foreword by Bishop Athanasius Schneider that, among other things, marvels at how the postconciliar reformers ignored all the warnings of the Church Fathers and Roman Pontiffs and carried out “in an incomprehensible manner” a break with the rites of the previous era; and an Afterword by Peter Kwasniewski advancing the claim that the traditional rites are needed now more than ever because they are more honest about, and efficacious against, Satan and all his pomps, which are running rampant in this post-modern world.

Conclusion

The liturgical reform was total, refashioning the Mass, all the sacraments, all the sacramentals, and all the Divine Office from a combination of redacted ancient elements and novel inventions.

Regardless of whether you agree with every one of his conclusions or not, we owe Fr. Barthe a debt of gratitude for a concise and well-written summary of the issues regarding the entire ‘liturgical reform’ and not just the Novus Ordo Missae. The Seven Sacraments is a valuable resource that joins a long and illustrious line of “loyal dissent.”

This review originally appeared in The Latin Mass magazine 35:3 (Fall 2026), pp. 72-73. Many thanks to its editors for allowing its publication here.