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Happy Easter to everyone! The Doctor and I have just returned from the Easter Vigil. Last year we spent Easter apart, so it was a blessing to be together this year for the happy occasion. On the other hand, I could not help but yearn for the beautiful Easter Vigil of St. Michael’s parish in Scranton, which I had the privilege to assist at these past two years. Here we don’t have a Latin Mass parish, so we had to go to the Novus Ordo for most of the Triduum.
They did a reasonably good job of it, with even parts of the ordinary in Latin, but ah! the Novus Vigil is really such a humdrum thing next to the exquisite beauty of the traditional liturgy in its full splendor. I have been spoiled. The Exsultet in this Novus Mass was done reasonably well, but it just could not capture the firm, joyous dignity of the old one, and saddest of all, it omits my favorite line: “O vere beata nox, quae sola meruit scire tempus et horam, in qua Christus ab infernis resurrexit!” (Oh truly blessed night, which alone deserved to know the time and hour when Christ rose again from the tomb!)
You have to get it in full context to properly appreciate it, but last year I remember tears pricking my eyes when we came to that line. This is not a thing that happens to me often.
It was also very tiresome that they did almost the entire thing with the lights on. At St. Michael’s the lights were quite properly left off through all the preliminary readings, which are of course part of the night which has not yet been dissipated with the full light of day. Though it does involve certain dangers, the effects of this on the sensibilities are really enormous. And the moment when they turned the lights on, pulled the screens back from the flowers, and rang all the bells… well, that will remain in my memory long after tonight’s little excursion has long since been forgotten.
We also got to watch a couple of people get baptized. I had not been to an adult baptism since, well, I believe my own, almost three years ago. Mine wasn’t at the Easter Vigil — in fact, it was done on the Vigil of Pentecost, which I thought a fitting date for it. I’m glad that it was a more private affair. Having that many eyes on me definitely would not have contributed positively to the occasion. These neophytes displayed no very obvious emotions of any kind, so I couldn’t tell what they thought. But what do others thing (particularly adult converts)? Is it good to make a baptism a community affair? I suppose the idea is that the whole congregation can celebrate the event together… in my case, though, happiness was not the dominant emotion, so the good wishes of a lot of strangers wouldn’t have been much appreciated. I don’t know.
Anyway, I’d like to write something more inspiring, but perhaps our Traditional Latin Mass tomorrow will put me more in the mood. Easter joy to all! Christus surrexit!
Vere surrexit!
Happy Easter!
“Is it good to make a baptism a community affair?”
Well, is it good to make confirmation a community affair? Traditionally confirmation (for children) has been celebrated at a Sunday Mass. Usually First Holy Communion is celebrated for a bunch of kids together. And then there is the wondrous symbolism of catechumens preparing through Lent (with things like scrutinies, etc.) and being baptized literally in the death of the Lord in the liturgy designed for that. In being baptized, you are joining the Church which is a community. Baptizands also join a parish. The Cornell Society members have not always been in a particularly regular situation as far as what belonging to a parish means. I’m not saying that clapping is appropriate, nor that it is right for everyone to wait till Easter. But that is part of what the Easter Vigil was originally designed for, as well as Lent. And major initiations like Confirmation and First Holy Communion were “community affairs” even in the post-Tridentine era.
Surrexit Dominus Vere!
A Blessed, Joyful and Holy Easter to all at the Cornell Society.
In Christ Risen and Mary Joyful,
Fr. Scott Bailey, C.Ss.R.
“in my case, though, happiness was not the dominant emotion, so the good wishes of a lot of strangers wouldn’t have been much appreciated. I don’t know.”
I hadn’t thought of it before you posted this, Clara, but it occurred to me that Baptism isn’t just about the baptizand and his or her private experience. Plus, in a normal parish, the other parishioners simply wouldn’t be strangers. In the parish I grew up in, we certainly all knew each other. Being a stranger to the other people in your parish isn’t the norm, and in fact I think it’s a defect. Not one that is always avoidable, but a defect nonetheless.
Clara,
A couple of thoughts.
The Easter Vigil was, for almost a thousand years, the primary time for baptisms. Even in the TLM this is so. That is the reason the font is blessed. It is so integral to the Vigil that it wasn’t phased out when baptisms became “private” celebrations so that what remained was really a vestigial ceremony.
The OF Easter Vigil can be a beautiful dignified celebration with the same externals you speak of. We must be careful not to blame the rite, but rather the “liturgists” who bastardize the rite. Of course, the texts are impovirshed. But then again, there was also an impovrishment with the Pian and Johanine reforms as well. This is not to excuse the lackluster celebrations of the Vigil. They must be reformed, at least the celebration of them. There is one problem with the OF of the liturgy that must be speedily rectified: It must be celebrated as it should be.
At the OF Easter Vigil at St. James in Trumansburg last night, there was only candlelight until the Gloria, when the bells were rung and they took the veils off the statues. Golden-colored vestments. Unfortunately the sounds of a guitar were heard (teeth grate). Otherwise it was generally tasteful for an OF celebration.
Fr. Bailey,
I found these words of yours interesting: “There is one problem with the OF of the liturgy that must be speedily rectified: It must be celebrated as it should be.”
How are we to determine how the Easter Vigil “should be” celebrated? Should we conform ourselves and the parochial celebration of the Liturgy to the tradition and so celebrate in such a way that average, barely catechized Catholics will not very well appreciate it and consequently will not be able to participate very much? Or should we bring the liturgy down to their level by conforming the Liturgy to modern man’s image so that they can participate?
This consideration, of course, brings us back to the words of the Council. If the Council got it right, that is, if the participation of the (uncatechized) populus is the most important goal to be achieved in parochial celebrations of the Liturgy, then we must vulgarize the received Liturgical Tradition so that the largely unwashed masses will be able to participate externally at Mass. (Pun intended.) If, on the other hand, the pre-conciliar mindset got closer to the truth, then Liturgy should not be so much about enabling the people to participate, but rather about 1. Glorifying God; and 2. Sanctifying his people. And Notice: Sanctifying his people in this mindset is a secondary goal and may Not be the same as enabling them to participate.
It seems fairly obvious to me that the Council did not envision a multi-generational approach to this problem. It did not call for a wide-spread, century long catechesis which would result in Catholics three generations hence appreciating the Received Liturgy. So we really are stuck with the problem. We must Either obey the Council and change the Liturgy so as to enable the participation of the masses OR preserve the Received Liturgy intact, knowing full well that most will not be able to participate in the way most self-proclaimed “liturgists” would like.
Perhaps the Council got it wrong. Perhaps we should have multiple conflicting goals when we celebrate Liturgy, chief of which should be God’s glorification. Further down on the list could be the external participation of the populus. Just a provocative thought for this paschal season.
Clara,
In the Patristic era (which is the era that most self-proclaimed liturgists around the middle of the last century prized above all), most adult Baptisms were celebrated Holy Saturday night, but not in the main body of the Church; Rather, they were celebrated in a separate baptistry. Such baptistries as survive (I have in mind a few in North Africa and the one at St. John Lateran in Rome) might not even be connected by a passage way to their respective churches; Which is to say, that one might even have to walk outside, exposed to the elements, during the Easter Vigil to enter them. Their interior size is large enough for one’s immediate family and friends to be present at one’s Baptism, but not the entire parish community. Nevertheless, after the Baptismal ceremonies, the newly baptized would have to return to the main body of the Church to celebrate the rest of the Vigil with everyone else present for the Vigil. It goes without saying, that such Baptisms were generally performed in the nude and included full immersions into the water. Some North African Baptistries took the symbolism of rebirth so far that they are even vaginal in shape. Others were octagonal.
This is just a thought about how we might today balance the need for the personal and the communal in contemporary celebrations of the sacrament.
I find it hard to talk of any form of “Tradition” when it comes to the Triduum at this point. Both the ‘54 and the ‘70 services are Bugnini’s eggs, if only about fifteen years apart. My girlfriend, knowing my uber-reactionary approaches to liturgy, got me a Holy Week service book from 1923, and to be frank, the pre-54 rite was all sorts of cool. The service on Good Friday was still called a Mass, it was done in a chausable, and it had many elements of a Mass, including the elevation of the Host before the Our Father (and no one received Communion save the priest). And the Mandatum was not done at the Holy Thursday Mass, if at all, etc.
Even if some concede that these changes are unfortunate, they at least would have us admit that “restoring” the time of the Easter Vigil was at least a good thing. But this was not traditional either, and the way it was done paved the way for further liturgical reforms. In the first place, it is the wrong service at the wrong time: in the Byzantine Church, the Vigil is still done on the morning of Holy Saturday. The actual vigil that begins before midnight is the night office and Paschal Matins. In the new rites, Vespers and Matins are eliminated and the offices lost. Also, the entire blessing of the candle is a concocted rite, as are the renewal of the baptismal promises, and the reduction of the prophesies to four instead of twelve, and then their restoration again, etc. The Vigil as you describe it here is only a little over fifty years old. Hardly traditional in the face of the criteria that people seem to have on this blog.
Maybe Easter Vigil Masses at the dead of night, the Mandatum in the context of a Vesperal Mass, Communion for the Faithful on Good Friday, etc. make you feel good. Maybe they give you fuzzy feelings. Maybe they were “good reforms”. But I don’t see how you can draw the line between these and three year lectionaries, lay ministers of the Eucharist, Communion in the hand, and the other villains in the traditionalist pantheon. These latter things, after all, make even more people feel good. So obviously, you are going to have to find other criteria as to what is “traditional”.
And if you want the real deal in this sense, some sedevacantist groups still do the pre-Pius XII Holy Week. You can see pictures by going to this site:
http://www.sgg.org/
“Maybe Easter Vigil Masses at the dead of night, the Mandatum in the context of a Vesperal Mass, Communion for the Faithful on Good Friday, etc. make you feel good.”
Why, Arturo, are you alleging that the purpose of these things is to make us feel good? You as good as justified the pre-1955 rituals on the basis that they are “all sorts of cool.” What would prevent us from alleging, “Maybe Easter Vigil Masses in the morning, no Mandatum, no Communion for the Faithful on Good Friday, etc. seem cool to you,” etc., etc. The Mandatum is pretty cool. There are abuses, of course, like the washing of women’s feet, but the rite itself is “cool.” Plus, what the Byzantines do right now with the Easter Vigil wasn’t the question, it was what was the most fitting time for that Mass. Lighting the Paschal Candle at night makes a heck of lot more sense than lighting in the morning when daylight is streaming in.
“But I don’t see how you can draw the line between these and three year lectionaries, lay ministers of the Eucharist, Communion in the hand, and the other villains in the traditionalist pantheon.”
How can we draw the line? Because although all of these things represented innovations from the point of view of the mid-20th century, the celebration of the Easter Vigil at night, the Mandatum, and the Communion of the faithful on Good Friday don’t have anything intrinsically objectionable about them. You are blurring the line between pretty much arbitrary innovations that were at most imprudent insofar as they paved the way for actually objectionable things, and the objectionable things.
Happy Easter!
Again, Happy Easter!
Sorry if I sounded too harsh on the Novus Ordo, Father. In fact, as I tried to emphasize, this one was pretty good. No tambourines or dancing or goofy campy banners. Though the choir wasn’t terribly talented, the music they chose was all tasteful. I don’t mean to complain. It’s just that I missed the EF Vigil so very much. I’ve been able to go the last few years now, so it had become a thing looked forward to, and I couldn’t help but feel sad not to be there. Scranton is a long drive, however, from Tennessee!
About baptism at Easter Vigil, I did know that it was the custom in the early Church (though apparently Pentecost baptism was also customary in many places and for quite some time, according to the priest who baptized me. And there is something fitting in that too, of course.) I appreciate the symbolism. I guess my thinking was guided by 1) the fact that, as too often with Novus sacraments, the whole affair had such a schlocky feel to it, as though it were a kind of pageant. It shouldn’t feel like an interruption of the sacred liturgy, but it did. Also, 2) I was feeling a bit sorry for the neophytes, just thinking how much I would have detested having to do it that way.
You’re right, of course, Tobia Petre, that things might feel different if one were more part of the parish community, which is how it ought to be. We never really were in those days, which is a defect to be sure. And the Cornell Society for a Good Time (such as it was in those days) did come, for which I was grateful.
But actually, what Maximillion describes might be very good. It would still have a “community” element without requiring the neophytes to appear before any and all gawkers. While I understand that baptism is, as TP says, not entirely a private experience, there is an important sense in which it is private, much more so than, say, Matrimony or Holy Orders. The individual is buried in Christ and then brought to life again with Him. He is also being admitted into the community of Christians, but the death and rising are in some sense his alone. To put it another way: there would be a point to baptizing even a person who was going to spend the rest of his life alone, in solitary confinement or on a desert island. There is a reason for baptizing people on the verge of death. There is no point in marrying or ordaining those who are in such a state. Those Sacraments related much more essentially to an earthly community.
Tobias Petrus,
I think the question is ultimately one of the meaning of tradition and what traditions are really authentic. To criticize one rite in favor of another when one is only fifteen years older and basically had the same author is a bit ridiculous. And the reforms of the Holy Week were really the test-run of what was to come. I find your thinking about the absurdity of having a vigil in the morning is much in the same vein as people who said that repetitions of prayers were wasetful and priests’ private prayers obsolete. There was an elegance and poetry to the way the old Holy Week was done, and it was your attitude of what “makes more sense” that in the end doomed the traditional liturgy in the Church last century.
And no, I don’t think the only criteria for legitimate liturgy is simply what “looks cool”. If that were the case, I would be a Copt. But true liturgical beauty is greatest, in my opinion, when it conforms to tradition. Tradition is tried and tested and has the testimony of ages. Long ago, most of the Western Church ceased to think that. And all I am saying is that the “traditionalists” for the most part, have ceased to think that way as well. They are just as infected with the “innovation bug”.
Happy Easter! I’m positive this is off topic, but I’d be pretty curious to know others’ thoughts. This idea of community begs a question of mine…the role of community in private prayer life. For instance, the joining of a third order, Opus Dei or any group that strictly mandates prayers and practices. Is it a mark of inability to ‘make it on one’s own’ or is it a calling? Thanks!
“To put it another way: there would be a point to baptizing even a person who was going to spend the rest of his life alone, in solitary confinement or on a desert island. There is a reason for baptizing people on the verge of death. There is no point in marrying or ordaining those who are in such a state. Those Sacraments related much more essentially to an earthly community.”
Interesting points, Clara. First, actually, Baptism is the only sacrament which is common to each and every Christian. It is the only one that we all have gone through, and it literally is the one thing in which all Christians are equal. So when you say this, “but the death and rising are in some sense his alone” I object: that death and rising is the one thing, perhaps the only thing, we all share. Not all of us have been confirmed, not all of us have been ordained, not all of us will ever be married, children below the age of reason do not receive the sacrament of Penance and our confessions vary in the sins confessed, the healthy do not receive Extreme Unction. Unlike any other sacrament, everyone can join the new baptizand in reciting/renewing the baptismal promises. In this sense, baptism is the least “private” sacrament there is.
Plus, as I pointed out, traditionally First Holy Communion and Confirmation have been done on Sundays with the entire congregation watching the kids. So big initiations (ones of which the subjects are aware, which excludes infant baptism) tend to be done with the community present.
If anything, I would argue that ordinations and marriages are more “private” in the sense of person-specific than baptism. Not everyone receives those sacraments, and for orders half the world is ineligible. Weddings are not done in secret, but neither are they done at Sunday Mass. Those celebrations are private, for that sacrament is about a community that includes only those two spouses. For holy orders, I do not know if ordinations take place at regular Sunday Masses when the “normal community” would be present — I did not think so. This too seems rather “private.” But for the big moments of Christian initiations that 1) are open to all lay people and 2) signify something to the person being initiated (unlike infant baptism) and 3) are not by their nature private (like first confession), public liturgical celebration seems to be more normative. Adult baptism would conform to the norm set by first Holy Communion and Confirmation. Indeed, for adult converts, these three sacraments were intended to be received together all at once in the Easter Vigil. I am not saying that situations could not dictate otherwise, I am simply looking for what makes most sense liturgically. Public reception of new converts at the Easter Vigil (or Pentecost, or Epiphany, or some other traditional time) in the presence of the community makes sense and, to answer your question, “is good.”
Arturo,
” To criticize one rite in favor of another when one is only fifteen years older and basically had the same author is a bit ridiculous.”
That would be ridiculous, if I were doing that. The specific things I commended — to wit, the Mandatum and having a Vigil Mass at night — were not innovations of fifteen years’ duration. No, they were really good ideas that had a long history, disappeared, and then, fortunately, were brought back in the 1950s. I am defending those two things, not the liturgies as a whole. I wish we had those twelve readings back. The reception of Holy Communion by the priest alone on Good Friday sounds “cool,” as you put it, and I think it has its profundity. I simply don’t see how the mandatum and holding a vigil at night are bad because Bugnini used them. Perhaps bad in the context of ongoing tampering with the liturgy, but if those things alone had been re-introduced, it would have been a plus.
“I find your thinking about the absurdity of having a vigil in the morning is much in the same vein as people who said that repetitions of prayers were wasetful and priests’ private prayers obsolete.”
And I disagree with your findings about my thinking. When the liturgy *refers* to light triumphing over darkness, then you’d better have a very good reason for not holding that liturgy at night. I have yet to hear a good reason not to hold the liturgy at the time assumed by the very *nature* of the ceremonies. I also think that Midnight Mass on Christmas should be celebrated *at midnight,* and not moved forward. Plus there are theological reasons why repetitious prayers are good and why priests’ private prayers are good. What theological reason is there why the Paschal Candle should be lit to dispel the “darkness” of 10:00 A.M. on a bright spring morning instead of the actual darkness of the evening which the *text of the liturgy* assumes has already fallen? Come now, be sensible. Surely this isn’t just a matter of “feeling good” as you put it. Surely there is no principle at stake in not anticipating an anticipated vigil but instead actually celebrating it qua vigil. Don’t you think the “elegance and poetry,” as you put it, of “O vere beata nox” falls utterly flat if those words are chanted when it isn’t even afternoon yet, let along “nox”? Please don’t fall into the trap of running out into traffic just because Bugnini (that plotting Freemason!) decided to wait for the light to change (pun intended).
Postscript: please don’t take my comments as though they were meant to be harsh. If anything, I’m trying to persuade of the fact that not all of the reforms were so serious as you make them out to be. I am completely with you on the question of the readings.
“And I disagree with your findings about my thinking. When the liturgy *refers* to light triumphing over darkness, then you’d better have a very good reason for not holding that liturgy at night. I have yet to hear a good reason not to hold the liturgy at the time assumed by the very *nature* of the ceremonies. ”
Well, just to educate you folks, this is not the only time that this occurs in the Catholic liturgy. Every Lent in Byzantine Churches, the Liturgy of Pre-Sanctified Gifts, a solemn Vespers service with Holy Communion attached to it, is usually celebrated in the morning according to Byzantine praxis. I have been to these Liturgies at nine and ten in the morning, and yes, it was strange to sing the Phos Hilarion in the morning (”now that we have seen the setting of the sun…”) Even in the monastery I was part of, we started the Liturgy of Pre-Sanctified Gifts later, around three o’clock, and the sun still had yet to set.
So what is the reason behind this? Very simple: the reverence for Holy Communion. That is, in the universal Church up to the middle of last century, Communion had to be received fasting, and not just after a token three to one hour fast. Out of reverence for the Sacrament, food and drink could not be received before reception. In the old days of the Church, people could fast all day in order to receive (though it should be noted that up to recently, few received Communion in most circumstances). Even in my old monastery, which was an exception in celebrating the Liturgy of Pre-Sanctified Gifts later, all who received Communion fasted from the night before, no exceptions. It is this lack of reverence for the Sacrament that could be interpreted as one of the reasons for the diminishing of religiosity in the Western Church. It may not be a good enough reason in your book, but it was certainly a good enough reason for the whole Church for much of history.
So when faced with the absurdity of having a Vesperal service in the morning and endangering the breaking of the fast, the Universal Church has historically opted for the former up to the middle of last century. It is only with Pius XII that we started the slouching towards the Communion practices that we have now. In no ancient Apostolic liturgy as it has been passed down to us has there been a case that the Eucharist could be celebrated in the evening with little fasting. Even the Copts have a cute practice in their all-night vigils that if the time for Communion comes before midnight, they keep singing psalms until they can receive Communion after midnight.
For me at least, these are good enough reasons. But an even better reason is that the current practice makes Holy Saturday effectively into an “aliturgical day”, and it abolishes Easter Matins and other liturgical services. I think, then, that one should refer to the whole tradition before one determines what “makes sense” and what doesn’t.
Dear Bridget,
This idea of community begs a question of mine…the role of community in private prayer life. For instance, the joining of a third order, Opus Dei or any group that strictly mandates prayers and practices. Is it a mark of inability to ‘make it on one’s own’ or is it a calling?
People in religious life and Third Orders are spiritual weaklings who need someone to tell them what to do. In other words, they’re loooooozers.
Just kidding! ;-)
Why do you ask if a communal prayer life is a weakness? Christianity is relationship, of us to God and to our fellow man. It seems odd to consider our Faith more “valid” if only we personally, individually, independently, decide what prayers and devotions to perform.
(Pardon me if I unfairly impute motivations to you! It’s just that, in the West, I have met folks who feel that being “born into” the Faith is less valid/noble than “personally choosing” to follow Christ as an adult.)
Have you read the Holy Father’s “Spe Salvi”? In pp. 14 and 15, he remarks that “salvation has always been considered a “social” reality. Indeed, the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of a “city” and therefore of communal salvation…“redemption” appears as the reestablishment of unity, in which we come together once more in a union that begins to take shape in the world community of believers…This real life…is linked to a lived union with a “people”, and for each individual it can only be attained within this “we”.”
In my experience, folks who join Third Order groups do so because they find that their personal charism/spirituality jibes with the charism of that particular Order.
It enriches their lives, it doesn’t enforce compliance (in any case, their Rule doesn’t bind on pain of sin). People seeking a spiritual crutch don’t usually make it all the way through to Final Profession.
Happy and Blessed Easter!
Tobias & Arturo:
Just a few thoughts. The ICK claims to have “verbal” permission from some Cardinal (of the top of my head I forget which) to do all twelve lessons in their Easter Vigil. Insofar as this practice more closely resembles the OF Vigil, perhaps the Ecclesia Dei Commission in Rome could be persuaded to give permission to those who request it to reintroduce some or all of the eight deposited readings.
Your dispute here has reminded me of a very difficult problem in liturgics that I’ve pondered for quite some time now: By what objective criteria should we judge changes to the Liturgy? It seems that changes that an individual likes are typically called by him “organic,” and changes he doesn’t like, “inorganic.” But what is the hallmark of real “organic” or “good” change? How can we know that a given change truly is good and doesn’t simply reflect our generation’s passing fads?
Arturo: The weakening of the traditional fast before Communion goes back further than Pope Pius XII: It goes back to Pius X pushing for the dailing Communion of the laity. Most of his “reforms” in the long run paved the way for Vatican II. If we were truly to revert back to an “unreformed” version of the Liturgy, we’d have to go back to the way things were before he “reformed” the Roman Breviary in 1903.
Tobias: It’s nice to read you pushing for something new! JK.
One more thought… Another thing to consider is the appropriate time for Tenebrae. This year I was privileged to attend Tenebrae on Wednesday night with a bunch of Sedes and was deeply moved by the whole service. The line which especially caught my attention toward the end was from the Benedictus: “Illuminare his qui sedent in tenebris et in umbra mortis.” Regardless of its historical origins, the service, by its very name, is designed to end during the night time, just like the Vigil is designed to begin at night. Even under the reformed rubrics, however, the service may be anticipated, if on Thursday morning a diocese has its Chrism Mass. So, we might be able to construct a Triduum schedule like this:
Wed. PM: Tenebrae
Thurs. AM: Chrism Mass
Thurs. PM: Mass of the Last Supper, incorporating the Mandatum, and Procession to the Altar of Repose, followed by the stripping of the Altar, Vespers, Compline (both sung recto tono). Clergy take a meal. Altars, Holy Water fonts washed.
Fri. early, early AM (before clergy repose): Tenebrae.
Fri. AM: Stations of the Cross, devotions to our Lady of Sorrows
Fri. Noon: Mass of the Pre-Sanctified.
Sat.: At midnight: Tenebrae.
Sat.: PM: Vigil
We’ll just have to dispense the clergy during the Triduum from their Lenten fast from coffee. The only service that’s not encorporated in a scheme like this would be Matins/Lauds of Sunday morning. Is that such a horrible loss, if we gain the various Offices at their proper times?
“The weakening of the traditional fast before Communion goes back further than Pope Pius XII: It goes back to Pius X…”
Maximilian,
You are absolutely right. If you look at the problem as it has been addressed in the Orthodox Church, one can see many parallels. One must admit that in the realm of the ideal, frequent Communion is desirable in itself, but in and of itself, it does very little in terms of the sanctification of the laity. Without an effective ascetical basis to it and a general sense of the sacred amongst the laity, it could just result in a mass “eating of one’s own judgment”. St. Pius X and such figures as Nicodemos of the Holy Mountain in the Orthodox Church probably thought that by advocating frequent Communion they would be bringing the level of commitment to the Christian life amongst the people up instead of dragging the Sacrament down. History, I think, has given a rather decisive verdict so far.
Receiving Holy Communion in and of itself does little to nothing if one is not making real efforts to lead a Christian life. Even with all the talk of “graces” that one might consider, man still has free will, and if one does not wield it in the right manner, no amount of reception or non-reception will be sanctifying. In the Orthodox Church, there is still the idea that one has to prepare for the reception of Communion with prayer, fasting, and let’s be blunt, abstention from sexual intercourse in marriage. This results more often than not in even the devout only receiving Communion a few times a year. And for all the problems with the Orthodox Church, people still take the Eucharist seriously in most places.
The bottom line is the idea that the manipulation of the rules for Holy Communion, such as moving the times around for services to allow “active participation”, ultimately led in the Western Church to a general feeling of control and entitlement over the sacred that we used to not feel. We can change the times of services since we think we know better that the rules that have governed the liturgy for hundreds of years. We can take a venerable and ancient rule such as fasting from midnight before the reception of Holy Communion and assign instead an arbitrary number of hours to take its place. And so on and so forth. I still think that it is practices like this that are corrosive to any sense of the sacred in the Western world.
Arturo,
In defense of Pope St. Pius X, a friend of mine has argued (not on this blog) that because the world is so much more evil now than ever before and because the common man is forced to labor now more than ever, St. Pius was justified in making the changes he did. Are you at all amenable to this argument? Could such changes in the secular ever be legitimate reasons for departing from the Church’s tradition?
Make that: “…secular wrold…”
Contrafactual arguments and imagined histories touching on decisions of Sainted Pontiffs a century ago are hubristic in the extreme, Arturo. Comparisons with the Eastern Church, while instructive, are also red herrings; not only are they just not the Western Church, they also have not really fared any better in their meeting with Modernity than has the West, even though their Liturgies have blissfully been spared from the wreckovations that followed the late Council.
“We can change the times of services since we think we know better that the rules that have governed the liturgy for hundreds of years.”
Uh, you realize, Arturo, that the Vigil was celebrated in the morning only because people decided they “knew better than the rules that had governed the liturgy for hundreds of years.” You should be happy their mistake was corrected.
I can never really understand, Arturo, why you so often seem to have a chip on your shoulder when you post. Comments about the coolness of other older (or Eastern) liturgies, or questions about whether more rigorous ascetical practices might increase reverence in reception, would be perfectly well received here. But you have to turn this into a challenge, based on what seem to me some fairly questionable inferences drawn from your information.
My original post said some things about the greater beauty of the older form of the liturgy, which I had enjoyed in years past. Your answer seemed to imply that I could not reasonably make such a judgment unless I either
1) was assured that the pedigree of tradition unambiguously showed the form of the liturgy that I had enjoyed to be the best that had ever been, or
2) was basing my analysis purely on subjective “feelings”, in which case others might easily make the same claim on behalf of the Novus Ordo, or really any crazy liturgy you might imagine.
This argument seems pretty spurious to me. In the first place, I was comparing two things, not asserting the absolutely superlative greatness of the Mass exactly as celebrated at St. Michael’s in Scranton. I can perfectly well countenance the possibility that there might be other elements of traditional liturgy that St. Michael’s would do well to recover, without in any way diminishing the comparative point. Obviously the Mass they do there is more traditional than the Novus.
But also, I don’t need to be relying exclusively on the traditional “pedigree” in judging which is more beautiful and dignified. My natural sensibilities allow me to appreciate this in a way that doesn’t depend on subjective “feelings.” There is such a thing as beauty; it is not merely a matter of individual taste. If you don’t believe that, you certainly will get tied up in knots in trying to debate about liturgy.
I actually had heard before that the Vigil (and other Masses too, for that matter) had for a time been moved up in order to make it easier to keep the all-day fast. I’m not going to comment on which fasting rules were the best, but even if the older ones were better, I don’t see how that constitutes an answer to the reasons Tobias Petrus gave for holding the Vigil after dark. If you’re really such a fan of asceticism as preparation for reception, it seems like the best way would be to hold the Vigil after dark, and make people fast the whole day if they wanted to receive there.
For Tobias Petrus concerning baptism:
You are right, of course, that baptism is the most universal Sacrament. More people have received that one than any other, and it is the only Sacrament that all Christians have received. But I don’t see how that in itself constitutes a reason for making it the most public.
Weddings and ordinations are not done at Sunday Mass, but they are ordinarily (I believe, though I know less about ordinations) done at Masses that are open to all the public. The main reason they’re not done on Sunday, I think, is because it’s customary to have the whole Mass revolve around the wedding or ordination, which wouldn’t be possible if it were just done at the regular Sunday Mass. You wouldn’t be able to use the appropriate propers, devote the homily to discussing the event at hand, etc., if these things were done at the regular Sunday Mass. But Matrimony and Holy Orders are legitimately “of public interest.” You said this:
“If anything, I would argue that ordinations and marriages are more “private” in the sense of person-specific than baptism. Not everyone receives those sacraments, and for orders half the world is ineligible. Weddings are not done in secret, but neither are they done at Sunday Mass. Those celebrations are private, for that sacrament is about a community that includes only those two spouses. For holy orders, I do not know if ordinations take place at regular Sunday Masses when the “normal community” would be present — I did not think so. This too seems rather “private.””
But I disagree. These Sacraments both exist for the sake of the community, whereas baptism is first and foremost for the sake of the baptized individual. The priest is not ordained for his own sake, but for the sake of the People of God whom he will serve. And Matrimony is not merely about establishing a community of two. It is about establishing a new family, and families in their turn are the most fundamental building blocks of any community or society. For that reason, a marriage does concern everyone in the community, and so, unless there is a compelling reason to the contrary, weddings should be open to anyone who wishes to come.
Baptism is different. The mere fact that an event is universal doesn’t necessarily constitute an argument for making it public. Birth and death are the most universal of human events, and yet these are normally fairly private affairs. When an event is made public by reason of its “universal” nature, I think this normally has something to do with solidarity. Those who have passed that way before come to give their blessing, if you will, to those who are now taking the same step. First Communion and Confirmation are a bit like that, I think. Baptism, though, won’t ever really have that same feel. Though all members of the Church are equally baptized, not all have had the experience of baptism; in fact, most of them haven’t. They were baptized as infants and don’t remember it. Sacramentally, of course, this makes no difference. But experientially it makes an enormous difference, and the convert is likely to be very aware of that difference. The newborn, when he is buried with Christ, loses nothing but the stain of sin, and leaves nothing significant behind him. But the adult convert, when he is buried with Christ, lays down a life actually known and remembered and loved. It is an ending for him as well as a beginning. The majority of the people in his new parish probably will not have experienced that.
Think of it this way: a physical birth gives the community a new member, and is an occasion of joy. But we don’t make births public events, in large part because the process itself is messy and painful, and seems in general to be of a somewhat intimate nature. (Actually, these days I hear some people do like to gather a crowd into the delivery room for a birth, but this seems to me rather a vulgar practice.) Well, particularly for an adult, spiritual birth, though ultimately a great good, can also involve messy or painful elements, and might feel like the sort of intimate event that shouldn’t be shared with scores of mere acquaintances or even complete strangers.
All this being the case, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to me that some converts may not wish to have the whole community watch their baptism. Even if the presence of the congregation is meant to be a source of support and solidarity, it may feel to them more like an intrusion. I do understand why we might want to emphasize the way the neophyte is being “brought into the community.” At the same time, entrance into a new community is only one aspect of baptism, and if the other elements seem to be overshadowed by making the event so public, that might be an argument for changing the practice.
” In no ancient Apostolic liturgy as it has been passed down to us has there been a case that the Eucharist could be celebrated in the evening with little fasting. ”
Hmm, the Catholic Encyclopedia disagrees, Arturo: “In Rome everything was carried on in daylight, whereas in Africa on Holy Thursday the Eucharist was celebrated after the evening meal, in view of more exact conformity with the circumstances of the Last Supper. Canon 24 of the Council of Carthage dispenses the faithful from fast before communion on Holy Thursday, because, on that day, it was customary take a bath, and the bath and fast were considered incompatible. St. Augustine, too, speaks of this custom (Ep. cxviii ad Januarium, n. 7); he even says that as certain persons did not fast on that day, the oblation was made twice, morning and evening, and in this way those who did not observe the fast could partake of the Eucharist after the morning meal, whilst those who fasted awaited the evening repast.” (article for Holy Thursday)
So: venerable Church, sainted Church Father, no fast before Holy Communion, Vigil Mass celebrated.
Arturo, here is what the Catholic Encyclopedia says for Holy Saturday: “The night of the vigil of Easter has undergone a strange displacement. During the first six or seven centuries, ceremonies were in progress throughout the entire night, so that the Alleluia coincided with the day and moment of the Resurrection. In the eighth century these same ceremonies were held on Saturday afternoon and, by a singular anachronism, were later on conducted on Saturday morning, thus the time for carrying out the solemnity was advanced almost a whole day. Thanks to this change, special services were now assigned to Holy Saturday whereas, beforehand, it had had none until the late hour of the vigil.
This vigil opened with the blessing of the new fire, the lighting of lamps and candles and of the paschal candle, ceremonies that have lost much of their symbolism by being anticipated and advanced from twilight to broad daylight.”
So originally there simply were no “special services” (so presumably no Office) on Holy Saturday until the time of the Vigil Mass. And why is this bad? It is a unique day of the year, the only complete day that Our Lord spent in the tomb. In the time of the early Church, it was the only Saturday on which fasting was allowed: “By a noteworthy exception, in the early Church this was the only Saturday on which fasting was permitted (Constit. Apost., VII, 23), and the fast was one of special severity.” There is symbolism in the fact that no Mass is offered on Good Friday, there was symbolism in the fact that only the priest communicated on Good Friday during (I don’t know how long) a stretch of time in the Latin Rite, and I can find symbolism in not having any distinct liturgical activity for the day that Our Lord lay still and silent in the tomb. Or you could split the difference: have the Vigil Mass at night, and anticipate the Office. That could work, too.
Clara:
Are nuptial Masses really open to all and sundry? Practically speaking?
“The main reason they’re not done on Sunday, I think, is because it’s customary to have the whole Mass revolve around the wedding or ordination, which wouldn’t be possible if it were just done at the regular Sunday Mass.”
And yet Confirmation for children takes place at regular Sunday Mass, with much of the Mass revolving around it, and the Church makes this possible. The entire congregation is there and is supportive.
Yes, Orders and Matrimony are ordered toward the community. Fine.
“Baptism is different. The mere fact that an event is universal doesn’t necessarily constitute an argument for making it public.”
Fine, I’m with you.
“Though all members of the Church are equally baptized, not all have had the experience of baptism; in fact, most of them haven’t.”
I strongly object. You are reducing the baptismal experience to the one-time experience of conversion to a new religion. Every Christian every day is called to live out his Baptism, which is the ongoing “dying to sin.” All of us fight the results of original sin. The difficulty of fulfilling those vows is not at all unique to converts. Converts simply have a distinct way of living out their metanoia. At the Easter Vigil in the OF, everyone renews his baptismal vows. There is real solidarity there, as there is a real common experience.
“They were baptized as infants and don’t remember it.”
As for infant baptism itself, I have said that it is better for that to take place outside of Mass. But for conscious initiation, it is better that it be public, all things being equal. If in a given case not everything is equal, then by all means have a private baptism.
“Sacramentally, of course, this makes no difference. But experientially it makes an enormous difference, and the convert is likely to be very aware of that difference. The newborn, when he is buried with Christ, loses nothing but the stain of sin, and leaves nothing significant behind him.”
But the congregation is not composed of infants, which I believe is a fallacy in your thinking. The actual congregation present at the Easter Vigil is composed for the most part of people who have reached the age of reason and hence, hopefully, are living the life that the convert is taking up. Ultimately, we’re all in the same fight against the world, the flesh, and the devil. The obligations of baptism may prove just as weighty for the cradle Catholic as for the convert. For me, leaving behind the old Adam is indeed a significant daily struggle. Really, we’re all “converts.” So the parishioners (good Catholics I have in mind, remember) would not normally think of their baptism as some one-off event in their infancy in which they merely shucked off original sin and then didn’t need to worry about it again. They really would be in an analogous position to the congregation at a First Holy Communion or Confirmation — we’ve all given up something in order to be Catholic and stay that way. And most of us (i.e. conscious, aware Catholics) in this country are familiar enough with people who have joined or left the Church to have some appreciation of what converts are doing.
“But the adult convert, when he is buried with Christ, lays down a life actually known and remembered and loved. It is an ending for him as well as a beginning. The majority of the people in his new parish probably will not have experienced that.”
They may not remember the waters of Baptism, but they do remember the tears of Confession. It is rather belittling, don’t you think, to imply that most Catholics don’t have some important aspect of their life that they remember and love and that they have had to lay down? Isn’t every day of Christian life an ongoing conversion? Yes, I think the majority of the people in a parish (once again, of aware Catholics) are aware of this.
Or perhaps you are complementing cradle Catholics by implying that we are all saints from the moment of our baptism. Sadly, no! It is difficult for me to say at the Easter Vigil “and all his pomps and works” with absolute sincerity, devoid of any equivocation or exception. I find myself thinking “Really? All of those allurements? *No* allowance for the flesh in its concupiscence?” Yet that is what is demanded from us by Baptism. The old Adam still comes creeping back.
“Think of it this way: a physical birth gives the community a new member, and is an occasion of joy. But we don’t make births public events, in large part because the process itself is messy and painful, and seems in general to be of a somewhat intimate nature . . . Well, particularly for an adult, spiritual birth, though ultimately a great good, can also involve messy or painful elements, and might feel like the sort of intimate event that shouldn’t be shared with scores of mere acquaintances or even complete strangers.”
If it’s really that problematic, then it should be done in private then. You use the birth analogy. Well, the birth pangs (whoa . . . deja vu) aren’t actually going to take place at the Mass, are they? Presumably most of the messy and painful things aren’t going to take place in the actual process of Baptism but in the period of being a catechumen. The moment of Baptism is simply one of joy. Sins are extinguished *without being confessed* and *without any subsequent penance* and *without any remaining temporal penalty due for the sin forgiven.* The actual moment of Baptism is to be one of joy, a passage from darkness to light, death to life, etc. For most converting catechumens, I would think that the pain of rebirth simply is not at the actual moment of baptism, but before that, in private. If you really believe that being a public member of the Church is a great joy and is worth it, I don’t see how joining publically would be an unusual burden for most people most of the time, all things being equal.
“All this being the case, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to me that some converts may not wish to have the whole community watch their baptism.”
So I guess I would conclude that your own experiences here simply are not prevalent enough as to mandate a change in the current (and also Patristic) custom. If some people want to opt out and be baptized at a private celebration, okay, that shouldn’t stop their converting. What some converts wish, some converts should have the option of doing. But that should be the exception, not the rule.
“Even if the presence of the congregation is meant to be a source of support and solidarity, it may feel to them more like an intrusion.”
I’m worried about the idea that the congregation is an intrusion in the actual celebration of the baptism. I’m also worried that this view, once given some license by permitting a private baptism for an adult, might lead the convert to regard the congregation as an intrusion in their life as a baptized Catholic. I should hope that the convert would be accustomed from the beginning to know that he belongs to a particular church. The parish really is supposed to be there for support and solidarity from day one — they can be that on day one, too. Why do regard them as an intrusion just by being present as witnesses? Really, you are supposed to belong to a parish and take part in its life.
I simply fear that your own irregular experiences of (sometimes non-)parish life might be manifesting themselves in a prejudice. In my home parish, the town was small enough that most converts already knew many the other congregants from secular life (i.e. the congregants were not strangers, many were more than just acquaintances, and presumably most of them would not remain strangers as the convert entered into parish life and joined the K. of C. or altar society). In parishes larger than that, there probably would be multiple converts at the Easter Vigil, so not all of the focus would be placed on one solitary neophyte, which might be daunting.
“At the same time, entrance into a new community is only one aspect of baptism, and if the other elements seem to be overshadowed by making the event so public, that might be an argument for changing the practice.”
Actually, I think that even this point is misplaced. Joining the Church is not just “only one aspect of Baptism.” Joining the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ, is one of the most important aspects of Baptism. For the adult convert, joining the Church is a conscious thing of immediate import (not so in infant baptism). So why not have the Church there in the person of the parish as well as the godfather and the pastor? So the presence of the congregation is more than just a nod to some “new community,” it is the visible, tangible instantiation of the Holy Catholic Church which the convert is joining. (And sometimes that flawed Church on earth might very well seem “intrusive.”)
“Presumably most of the messy and painful things aren’t going to take place in the actual process of Baptism but in the period of being a catechumen.”
Or are you thinking in part of the pressure of standing in front of many people to profess the vows? Is it partly a matter of weeping publically?
“This year I was privileged to attend Tenebrae on Wednesday night with a bunch of Sedes and was deeply moved by the whole service.”
Let’s play a game of hangman, shall we?
_omm_ni_atio in _a_ri_
Maximillian, you asked, “How are we to determine how the Easter Vigil “should be” celebrated?”
Easy. Read the black, do the red. Don’t add in all kinds of cutsie feel good stuff because some liturgist thought, “isn’t this a great idea?” Just follow the rite as it stands. Period. That’s how we determine how any rite should be celebrated.
One of the best lines I’ve heard about the Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite is that “it’s a wonderful thing. We should try it sometime.” The meaning being that rarely is it a case of simply following the rubrics… reading the black, doing the red. Even the bishops have to play with it. Heaven knows ICEL ruined it not only by mistranslating the texts but by mistranslating the rubrics as well. The places where the Ordinary Form is properly celebrated are few and far between. In the big picture there are relatively few who have ever experienced it.
Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m pro OF con EF. I’m pro both if well and properly celebrated, though I prefer the EF. Neither do I think the OF is an organic development as called for by the Council. It clearly isn’t, though it might seem that way to some.
Clara, you wrote: “The main reason they’re not done on Sunday, I think, is because it’s customary to have the whole Mass revolve around the wedding or ordination, which wouldn’t be possible if it were just done at the regular Sunday Mass.”
As for weddings, they aren’t done on Sunday because brides don’t want them on Sunday. Most brides today, even Catholic brides, have no clue about weddings and what is happening even after instructions. They aren’t interested. They want it to be about them. Harsh, but very true in my experience. If the wedding were at a regular Sunday Mass, the Nuptial Mass could be celebrated outside Advent/Christmas and Lent/Easter. In some places in Europe and South America this is the custom. But not in the USA where it’s all about the bride ala Hollywood and Soap Operas.
The reason Ordinations are not done at regular Sunday Mass is because in most cases they would cause havoc with the Mass schedule and the life of the parish, given that Cathedrals are parishes. The directives call for them to be celebrated on Sundays or Feastdays. Again, in some places they are.
While these two sacraments are received by specific people, the celebration of them is to be open to all. No one can be kept from the celebrations. Weddings are not private affairs and the couple can neither prevent nor prohibit anyone from assisting at the celebration of the Mass or service. The same is true of ordinations. There is no such thing as a “private Mass” in that sense. The only private sacrament is Penance.
All sacraments are public and communal in nature, even Penance, and as such are to be celebrated publically and communally. The public nature of Penance is not found in the actual celebration of the sacrament as with the others, but in the restoration of the penitent to the “living” community. They are public and communal because they cannot exist apart from the Church, which is part of the Communion of Saints. Though the effects of Baptism apply to the one baptized, one of those effects is being united with Christ in his body which is the Church. You can see how this applies to the other sacraments, I’m sure.
Remember that Mass celebrated by a priest with one server is fully and completely public and communal. As we understand that to be public, so we understand all sacraments to be public.
One of the problems with the modern Easter Vigil is that “liturgists” have made Baptism its center and focus. This is a new innovation. Even in the ancient rites during the Patristic era it wasn’t the focus. It was one of the rites celebrated during a long night of prayer, watching and waiting for the Resurrection as symbolized in the rising of the sun, but it was never the reason for the Easter Vigil that it has become or has been claimed to be.
The Vigil began with Vespers, part of which was the lighting of the lamps. Since all lamps and fires had been extinguished on Good Friday, a fire was kindled to provide a source for flame and a Lucernarium was celebrated as it was at every Saturday Vespers. Over time, and very early on, this developed into the elaborate rites of the blessing of the Paschal Candle and Exulted we now have. This was followed by Vespers which was extended on vigils to include a large number of readings from Scripture, in this case, an overview of salvation history. Then baptisms were celebrated, but before this could happen the font had to be blessed. After all this had happened, it would be early Easter Morning and the celebration of the Eucharist would begin. As time went on these rites were shortened for various reasons, but the Easter Vigil was still celebrated late Saturday night or early Sunday morning. Eventually, due to a number of reasons, one of which was the corruption of the clergy, it was pushed ahead to Saturday Morning. For the same reason, Matins and Lauds were allowed to be anticipated, thus Tenebrae at night in secular churches. (The anticipation of Matins and Lauds by secular clergy was originally a dispensation granted them on Sundays and Feasts since they had to celebrate Masses in the morning on Sundays and Feasts and the offices had to be celebrated before Mass could be said. It developed into common practice and was accepted though it began as an abuse.)
Oh, oh, oh, I know that one.
Communication in sacris.
Forgot to conclued. Sorry.
The Easter Vigil was the Church keeping watch in prayer awaiting the glorious resurrection on Easter Morning. Baptism was a part of it. The Lucernarium was a part of it. Vespers (the readings) was a part of it. But the focus was on the community watching and waiting for the announcement of the Resurrection and the Paschal Eucharist.
So, we do make too much of the baptisms when the Eucharist takes second place, when we fail to celebrate the Vigil in such a way that shows that everything is leading up to the Mass which is the culimnation of the Triduum.
ugh. that should be Communicatio in sacris.
Well, again, I’m not definitely condemning public baptism. Very possibly there are some converts that like it, and if so, I don’t really mind. I just feel sorry for the neophytes when I’m at the Easter Vigil, but you may be right that my experience was somewhat less typical. I haven’t really gone around asking other converts what they think.
Still, I would still make a few rejoinders to what you say:
First, as to the differences between converts and cradle Catholics. I wasn’t trying to imply that cradle Catholics lead tranquil, painless lives without ever having to make sacrifices for the faith. I apologize if I left that impression. Still, it’s true that they have never experienced baptism as Christian initiation. The process of conversion to a Christlike life may be ongoing, and there may be lots of relapses and returns along the way, but that’s still not quite the same as what happens to the convert when he relegates his whole life (even the good-seeming parts!) to his pagan past, and commits to orienting his life in an entirely new way. I have a certain holy envy for cradle Catholics sometimes, and it pleases me to think that any children the Doctor and I have will be cradle Catholics. Though we converts do contribute something of our own, I hope, it still seems that cradle Catholics can sometimes achieve a certain sort of “wholeness” in their Catholic life that is out of reach for us. I don’t mean that things are easy for them, but even through hard times, their whole lives can in a sense be set to a Catholic theme. Their faith is their inheritance, the tradition of their fathers, both their first and their final home. By contrast, the convert’s very inclusion in the Body of Christ is premised on a rebellion against family, home, and the customs that shaped and gave meaning to his childhood. So sure, cradle Catholics can identify with certain elements of this experience, but it really isn’t quite the same.
But also: consider the aspects of the cradle Catholic’s experience that, by your own admission, best enable him to understand the experience of the convert. You mention the tears of the confessional, overcoming hardships, etc. Were those things made into public events? By acknowledging the similarity it seems to me you strengthen my point for why baptisms might better be done privately.
“The moment of Baptism is simply one of joy. Sins are extinguished *without being confessed* and *without any subsequent penance* and *without any remaining temporal penalty due for the sin forgiven.* The actual moment of Baptism is to be one of joy, a passage from darkness to light, death to life, etc. For most converting catechumens, I would think that the pain of rebirth simply is not at the actual moment of baptism, but before that, in private. If you really believe that being a public member of the Church is a great joy and is worth it, I don’t see how joining publically would be an unusual burden for most people most of the time, all things being equal.”
Well, again, I don’t really know what’s “typical”, but perhaps I should say a bit more about my own baptism. A number of people, notably my husband (then boyfriend), my godfather, and the members of the CSGT, did much to make it a nice weekend for me, and I was grateful for that. But I couldn’t feel very much joy in the events themselves. It was one of those cases where I believed that I was doing something very much for my good, without that belief having much positive effect on my emotional state. My convictions were pretty firmly settled by that time, but I couldn’t put aside a sort of longing wish that they might have settled somewhere else. During the actual baptism (a fairly lengthy thing in the EF, what with all the exorcisms and such) and confirmation, I mainly remember feeling some mixture of abashed, terrified and ridiculously, pitifully small. I tried to think about outpourings of grace and being cleansed of sin, but I really felt more like someone who had just enlisted in a war, or signed onto a North Pole expedition, or sworn on pain of death to climb Mount Everest. I felt like an immigrant standing on the deck of a departing ship watching her homeland fade finally from view. Becoming Catholic had seemed much more appealing when the prospects for doing so were less immediate.
Again, I haven’t done a survey, but this doesn’t seem to me like such an extraordinary thing. In biography, you find some “happy” conversion stories (Thomas Merton’s, for example) but also some of the grimmer ones (John Henry Newman or GK Chesterton.) The joke was on me, because I remember thinking of Chesterton’s description of conversion (which I read some years before my own), “No, that’s silly, conversion should be happy. If I ever become Catholic I’ll be sure that it’s a sublimely happy day.” Ha ha. As I learned, you can’t dictate such things for yourself.
The real explanation, I think, is that converts, though they’ve received enough graces to allow them to see the truth of the faith, are not yet really enjoying the goods of a Catholic life. It’s hard not to focus on the losses when you’re giving up more tangible and known goods in exchange for rather mysterious ones that you aren’t yet in any position to appreciate. Even those aspects of Catholic life that I badly wanted (most obviously receiving the Body of Christ at Mass) also seemed terrifying as the possibility became more concrete. All this being the case, baptism is not necessarily a joyful experience for the convert himself, though hopefully it can be looked back on with joy later in life, when the Catholic gradually develops a greater appreciation of what was begun at that time.
So yes, I would have disliked it if they had asked me to be baptized in front of the whole congregation. I certainly wouldn’t have asked for an exemption (I felt much too little and abashed to protest anything I was told to do) and I don’t think I would have broken down weeping or anything like that, but I would have felt very awkward and uncomfortable. The whole thing was unnerving enough without a hundred pairs of eyes on me.
But I rather like Maximillion’s suggestion, apparently used sometimes in the early Church, wherein baptism of adults could take place in tandem with the Easter Vigil, but not necessarily in front of everybody, and not as the major focus of the whole evening. It could be done in a separate place, with maybe a few close friends and family, and of course godparents, present. Then the neophytes could rejoin the congregation, perhaps in a sufficiently noticeable way that the point about being received into the community would be made.
“You mention the tears of the confessional, overcoming hardships, etc. Were those things made into public events?”
Yet all of those things were determined by the moment of Baptism. When theologians contrast the waters of Baptism and Penance, they usually make tears of sorrow the trait of Penance. The reason for private confession has alot to do with shame, which the convert need not have, for Baptism does not make the convert confess to past personal sins. I would not mind being publically absolved from sin, it is the confession itself that I wish to keep private. The convert confesses to nothing but the Creed and the Baptismal promises. As Fr. Bailey, noted the penitents’ re-entrance into the life of the Church is public. Likewise with the convert’s first entry.
Even if we make allowances for what Maximilian says vis-a-vis the relative intimacy of baptisteries and the distinction between the Baptismal Rite and the Vigil Mass itself, it still seems to be different from an individualized Baptism at some other time of the year. The catechumens all formed a class, took part in public scrutinies, were baptized on the same day, and took part together for the first time in the Easter liturgy. Maybe his suggestion does justice to both sides of the issue.
I imagine that many priests have similar feelings to yours at the time of their ordination — humility, fear, apprehension, leave-taking — yet the ordination is still public.
Are there any other converts out there with some perspective on what it was like to enter the Church at the Easter Vigil, or privately? Maximilian, Iosephe, etc., please speak up. Were there any pitfalls to the way you entered.
“Then the neophytes could rejoin the congregation, perhaps in a sufficiently noticeable way that the point about being received into the community would be made.”
I’m thinking of the white baptismal gowns.
Plus, if there are multiple converts, then there is less focus on each individual.
When I was married, Father, I was told by a few priests that it was inappropriate to be married on Sunday. I don’t know what their reasons were, exactly, for thinking that. Anyway, but even if it would be okay to have the wedding on Sunday, doesn’t it seem that it would be disruptive to have it done during the regular Mass? I understand, as Tobias Petrus points out, that confirmation is often done this way, but in those cases the Church picks the date, and it usually happens only once a year. Weddings are often much more frequent than that, and you can’t really tell all the engaged couples in the parish, “You must all get married on September 19th” or whatever date.
Also, I wanted to insert a plea: have a little pity for brides! It isn’t always we who insert ourselves into the center of everything. As you learn when you get married, your wedding is important to more than just you, and it’s no small chore to send everyone home happy (or at least pacified.) Though I was determined to be a non-fussy bride (and I hope that I was, comparatively speaking!) I quickly discovered that when it comes to wedding preparations, the buck stops with the bride. Other people helped significantly, of course, but the automatic instinct seemed to be to refer things back to me. Got a problem? Call the bride. Have a suggestion? Get in touch with the bride. Did something not turn out right? Yeah, the bride should really have taken some precautions for that. I was amazed at how much unsolicited advice I received about things I must or must not do… always with the understanding, of course, that I would take care of whatever it was. I hate bossing people around, but once or twice adopting the Bridezilla persona was absolutely necessary for getting somebody else to fulfill their undertaken obligations. At least it has the advantage of inspiring fear, it apparently being assumed by everyone that Hell hath no fury like a woman whose wedding isn’t perfect.
I’m not denying that brides can get very, very silly and selfish about their weddings. Just reminding you that even the ones who don’t want to be that way might be juggling some pretty serious expectations and obligations from other people.
For the record, one notable exception to the above bit about hard-to-work-with people was the San Diego Latin Mass community, who, once we had all the permissions and paperwork squared away, took over entirely and arranged the whole Nuptial Mass without any further help or input from me (except for a few questions about music), which was wonderful. And the Mass, too, was wonderful. God bless those people! Though we made a voluntary donation afterwards, they never asked us for a penny, apparently motivated just by love of liturgy and compassion on some fellow Traditional Catholics who were trying to get married without any home parish to help them.
Yes, well, I’ll agree that de-centralizing the event (of baptism) might help, as would the presence of other converts (though of course you can’t really control the number of people wanting to convert in a parish in a given year.) It’s the Spotlight On You feeling that I’d want to avoid, and that seems so much a part of a lot of Easter Vigils now. Downplaying that and focusing on the Paschal mystery would be good for everybody, including the nervous neophyte, whose attention could thus be drawn away from themselves and towards something they recognize to be joyful.
“Contrafactual arguments and imagined histories touching on decisions of Sainted Pontiffs a century ago are hubristic in the extreme, Arturo.”
I am sorry. I just thought that second guessing Popes is the favorite pastime of Roman Catholic traditionalists.
I don’t think that St. Pius X was in bad faith nor do I think he was a bad Pontiff in any respect. However, the road to hell… (and so on and so forth).
And if we are going to start to argue about the antiquity of practices, we can start talking about the famous Patristic proof texts for Communion in the hand, unless you want to argue that Communion in the hand is inherently evil. We should thank God that the original Patristic practice was restored against all of those who thought they “knew better”.
But then we just start chasing our tails, so I’ll end it there.
Arturo, if you honestly cannot distinguish between Communion in the hand and having the Exsultet sung when it actually is the “beata nox” in question, you really are misjudging things. And that’s where I’ll end it.
Clara, you are right. Getting married on a Sunday would be disruptive in an American setting. However, the Church isn’t American (thanks be to God) and isn’t the same everywhere. Besides, shaking things up a bit isn’t always a bad thing. In my experience as a priest and before that, Confirmations and First Communions are not celebrated on Sunday’s. First Communions are usually Saturday morning and Confirmations are usually on a weeknight. Different customs prevail in different places.
Tobias Petrus, you wrote: “I imagine that many priests have similar feelings to yours at the time of their ordination — humility, fear, apprehension, leave-taking — yet the ordination is still public.”
Boy, is that the truth. If you want to see a bunch of grown men at their most vulnerable, watch them being ordained. Talk about being naked in front of a crowd! Just me and the bishop would have been fine. But it doesn’t work that way. The people have a right to be there just like they have a right to be present at every baptism. The priest is ordained for the people. The baptizandus is baptized into Christ and thus into the Church which is the people.
One thing I learned that day was that feelings are fickle. I was supposed to feel joy, elation, holiness, transformed, etc. I was so concerned with what I had to do and what I had to say that I didn’t feel any of that. I could hardly keep my focus on what was happening to me spiritually and ontologically. Thank God for ex opere operato. Actors on stage go through weeks of rehearsals. Ordinands have only one…and it isn’t really a rehearsal. When it was over I had to make sure guests got to the reception and then to their hotels or the airport.
So Clara, I understand what you’re saying. I think it’s just one of those things in life that, though difficult or unpleasant, has to be done. It’s a small price to pay considering what you get.
“I was so concerned with what I had to do and what I had to say that I didn’t feel any of that. I could hardly keep my focus on what was happening to me spiritually and ontologically. Thank God for ex opere operato. Actors on stage go through weeks of rehearsals. Ordinands have only one…and it isn’t really a rehearsal. When it was over I had to make sure guests got to the reception and then to their hotels or the airport.”
That being the case, Father, you might have a bit of insight into the kind of expectations placed on brides! Though actually, as far as nervousness goes, I have to say that I was hardly nervous at all when I got married. Not that it wasn’t “a big deal” of course, but it just seemed such a happy and natural development, nothing to be nervous about. Not a bit like baptism. Life is funny.
Tobias: I came over to Rome when I was 13 and already baptized. I was also privileged to be received into the Church in Jerusalem and to receive my First Communion from the hands of my grand-uncle and spiritual father, a priest of more than half a century. The only thing I really remember is making my pledge of fidelity to the Sovereign Pontiff and then afterwards being congratulated by all sorts of people I didn’t know.
Tobias and Clara: I’m glad I was able to provide a compromise with significant historic support that both of you could agree on. Baptisms are suitably celebrated in the nude (and therefore in a more intimate setting) because Baptism represents both rebirth and being washed from one’s sins. No one is born clothed or bathes with his closthes on, so why should people be baptized in clothing? A triumphant procession of the Neophytes clothed in white garments back into the main body of the Church during the Vigil would easily signify the more communal aspect of Baptism; namely, that by Baptism, the baptized enter the community of the Church.
Ambrosius: I must side with Arturo on this one. While Pope St. Pius X was quite saintly, nevertheless his saintliness does not put all of his prudential judgments beyond the realm of legitimate, constructive criticism. Of course, such criticism is always an activity involving contrary to fact conditions, because we do not know what would have happened had the Holy Father acted differently.
Fr. Bailey: My point about the Easter Vigil (and all other OF celebrations) stands. Namely, which of the plethora of options given to individual priests even in the Editio Typica Latin text of the New Missal should a given community use? Indeed, it is precisely the plethora of options that makes it impossible for a given priest only to “read the black and do the red.” Which black options should he read and which red options should he follow? I sincerely believe that if Pope Benedict wanted to clean up the Novus Ordo he would have to take the right away from you priests to chose at random which Eucharistic Prayer to use on a daily basis. If you’re simply the servants of the Liturgy and not its creators, you shouldn’t have the right to chose the Eucharistic Prayer on a whim; and this “right” you definitely do have, even if you chose not to exercise it.
I was trying to get us to consider a very important question: How can we fittingly judge if and how the Liturgy should change?
“Baptisms are suitably celebrated in the nude (and therefore in a more intimate setting) because Baptism represents both rebirth and being washed from one’s sins.”
Alright, new proposal for a banned topic: ritual nudity. Never, ever again. Please and thanks. Not my post, not my thread, but/so I ask Clara and the other bloggers here if that sounds good to them.
Dunno, Clara. Sadly, most of the brides I have dealt with are pretty clueless. They haven’t been inside a church since the last funeral or wedding they went to or maybe even their own confirmation. They have no or very little knowledge of basic Catholic teaching. And the really sad part is that they don’t care about it and have no problem saying so. They just want “the perfect wedding,” liturgical laws and rules be damned. With three exceptions, when I’ve asked them why they want to be married at St. Whoever’s they say it’s the prettiest church and has the longest aisle. (I’ve been fortunate in that none of the parishes I’ve been assigned to had wreckovated churches.)
Maximillian, you make it sound as if there are unending choices to be made. In reality there are very few.
1- Greeting
2- Form of the penitential rite
3- Sometimes the preface
4- Eucharistic Prayer
5- Memorial Acclamation at said Masses
6- Intorduction to the Lord’s Prayer
7- Form of Last Blessing
8- Dismissal (if no deacon is present)
Of these most are pretty minor (1,2,5,6,7,8). And the Eucharistic Prayer is not always ad libatum.
As to being simply servants of the liturgy, priests are much more than that. Without them there is no liturgy. Making use of options does not make priests creators of liturgy. That is absurd. The OF Mass does not come out of the thoughts or imagination of the priest. He uses what is given to him. Unfortunately many priests go beyond what is legitimately allowed, but one cannot say that what they do is the accepted rubric.
Well, I don’t know about long aisles, but when it comes to choosing churches, it seems natural for aesthetics to play a major part if you don’t already have a home parish. The Doctor and I were married in San Diego because my family lives there, but since neither of us had ever lived there, and since my family’s not Catholic, we had no special connections with a particular parish in the region. So we just had to find a church, and with all else being equal, a non-wreckovated church with a beautiful high altar was basically our goal. What other criteria should a person use in that situation?
For the rest, though, I do believe you, and even I have occasionally been regaled with stories of “that awful priest who told us we should stop living together before the wedding” or things of that nature. I’m sure it happens, often. On the other hand, when I was planning my own wedding a year ago, I got kind of tired of people patronizing me and assuming that I must be an airheaded nitwit just because I was a bride-to-be. Non-silly women have weddings too! Give us a chance!
Fr. Bailey,
My point is that by allowing the priest to make such significant choices in the Liturgy, the OF reinforces in his mind the error that he and his community should “create” the Liturgy afresh every time they come together. Clearly this error is quite widespread, especially in this country. I would simply encourage you to realize that those eight options you’ve listed, especially the fourth, are utterly inhistoric and subconsciously reaffirm such a deleterious attitude.
Clara, by no means do I think that all brides-to-be are airheaded nitwits. I can only speak from my experiences with brides-to-be. And as far as knowledge of Catholicism and taking Catholic life seriously you and those associated with this blog are the exception, not the rule. You live in a thoroughly Catholic culture and work at sustaining it. Unfortunately that is not the case with the young people of today. The fault is not entirely theirs. The priests of the Church have failed them (a topic for another post). So please do not think I view all brides the same. As I said, there are three that will stand out for their witness to the faith. They continue to do so today.
You ask what criteria should a person in the same situation as you were use? First and foremost, a holy priest. As to the church, a place that is worthy of the celebration of the sacraments. But again, you are the exception to the rule. A couple should be married in the brides parish church or if she is not Catholic the groom’s. She is part of a parochial community. Just because there is a more beautiful church down the street is no reason to go there. After all, de gustibus. Ultimately, the building itself really shouldn’t matter much at all. What’s most important is the sacrament, not the church in which it is celebrated. The building has no bearing on the graces or efficacy of the sacrament. My cousin, a Catholic, recently rejected a Catholic wedding because she wanted it outside and not in Church. Hence they are not married. She thinks the Church was just trying to control her wedding. Well, it wasn’t her wedding. She didn’t institute the Sacrament of Matrimony. Christ did. And weddings are public celebrations of the Sacred Liturgy, not private affairs. There is no such thing a private Liturgy. Given that the Chruch has rules and regulations to order the proper celebration of the Sacrament. So the question I have for the bride and groom is, what is more important, the sacrament or the ceremony? If the sacrament is truly important then everything else is secondary. If the ceremony is more important, and it seems to be so for a good number of brides, then we have some problems.
So it’s not about “ditzy” brides. It’s about Catholic brides who really have no clue as to what that means. That doesn’t mean they aren’t intelligent, capable women. It means that when it comes to Catholicism, they are sorely lacking in their education.
Maximillian,
I agree with your last post completely. The entire Ordinary Form is utterly unhistoric. It is the creation of men and a rupture with the past. No one can validly argue otherwise. A study of it’s history proves the rupture.
But I do think that Christ would not have allowed the OF to be promulgated if it were evil. I trust in His promise that the Church will not be subjugated by the powers of hell. Unfortunately, that promise applies to the Church, not the priests who celebrate the OF. The way they celebrate Mass is their responsibility, though the bishops and popes bear some of it by not putting an end to the abuses. Had things been done differently we mignt not be in the crisis we are in. Ultimately I believe it comes down to priestly holiness and integrity, two qualities which seem to have been lost over the past fifty plus years.
I say this as having been one of “them.” My first Mass was less than examplery. I thought I was doing right thing. I was doing what I was taught, what I experienced. But I believe Our Lady and Saint Alphonsus have continued to guide me and helped me see the truth. A priest is first to save his own soul and then those of others. He must take seriously Christ’s admonition to seek first the Kingdom of God. If one does that, the rest seems to fall into place as Christ said they would. A holy virtuous priest will strive to celebrate the sacraments in accord with the mind of the Church, not the mind of people in the Church.
Fr. Bailey,
I suppose we’re in substantial agreement, but if we use the word “evil” in its Medieval sense, i.e. “a lack of being and goodness where such being and goodness ought to be,” then we see that the OF is evil in some respects, however valid if properly celebrated. But why continue celebrating the OF at all?
“At present [1909] the celebrant alone communicates, but it appears from the old Roman Ordines that form