Tag: Liturgy

In the modern struggles and disagreements over the Liturgy, there tends to be a list of friends and opponents depending on one’s stance. For those of us with a more traditional leaning, Pope St. Pius X looms large as a friend and an image of tradition. He is usually seen as a defender of the tradition and a great proponent of what is called today the Extraordinary Form or Traditional Latin Mass (TLM)—so much so that the Society of St. Pius X (SSPX) takes its name from him.

And yet things, people, and movements are seldom as simple as we would like them to be. Despite many good reasons for admiring Pope St. Pius X’s attention to the Sacred Liturgy, he also (arguably) helped lay the groundwork for the revolution that would follow, not so much by his ideas but by his rather sweeping use of papal authority to influence and change the Liturgy in his day.

One of the most far-reaching things he did had little impact on the average Catholic but it had a dramatic effect on the Breviary, the prayers said by priests each day in the Divine Office (or Liturgy of the Hours). What makes what he did so significant was his use of papal power to rather summarily effect the change, a change that arguably did away with almost 1500 years of tradition, just because he wanted to. More of the details on that in a minute. Perhaps a little background first. (If you want a shorter read, go to the red line below.)

The Roman Rite of the Mass developed and came to fundamental form very early in the Church and had its most basic elements in mature form by the 5th Century, though it dates back far earlier in most of its elements. Due to the influence of the Roman See, it was largely the pure template for the liturgical practice of the Western Church. However, there were a lot of local variations to the Roman Rite, some of them significant enough to permit the use of another name altogether (e.g., the Gallican Rite, the Ambrosian Rite, the Sarum). In addition to these, there were many smaller variations and local usages.

This diversity of liturgical practice caused tension at times, if for no other reason than its bewildering complexity. There were various attempts made from time to time to unify the Liturgy throughout Europe by recourse to the Roman Rite and the fundamental purity and antiquity it was accorded. Most notably, the Council of Trent decreed that any form of the Liturgy that was less than 200 years old should be suppressed in favor of the Rite as celebrated in Rome. As such, there was a reverence for antiquity and a concern for novelty and recent innovations.

Yet even after Trent, especially in places like France, there was a tendency for accretions and innovations. Sometimes called “Gallicanism,” the decrees of the Council of Trent were either ignored or gradually less enforced. And thus many local variations began again to develop. By the 18th century, many liturgists began to critique the disorderly state of affairs and emphasized a kind of ultramontanism (a term meaning literally “beyond (or over) the mountains” and referring to Rome), which sought to establish the Roman Rite more purely.

By the time of the First Vatican Council (1869-70), papal influence was already well established from antiquity, but was also growing against Gallicanism and other local episcopal influence. Weariness over local European divisions was also part of the growing influence of the Pope. The Dogma of Papal Infallibility, proclaimed at the First Vatican Council (though narrowly construed and only invoked in very specific circumstances), served only to highlight papal power and influence.

Thus by the time of Pope Pius X (1903-1914), the relative “booster shot” given to the papacy enabled him to flex his papal muscles and extend his influence in more sweeping ways. And this leads us to the liturgical changes introduced by Pope Pius X.

It was in 1911, with the publication of Divino afflatus, that rather dramatic changes were made to the Roman Breviary. Some of the changes were small: cleaning up some accretions, adjusting the calendar, and giving greater priority to the temporal cycle over the more erratic sanctoral cycle. The obligations of what parts of the office and other prayers had to be said by priests were also clarified. All fine.

But among these changes was a casting aside of the very ancient arrangement of the psalter. Most notably, the ancient and almost universal tradition of praying the Laudate psalms (148-150) every morning and again every night at Compline was simply removed and replaced. No tradition in the Church was as universal and ancient as this, and with one stroke of a pen, Pope Pius X did away with it. Almost no liturgist of that time or since can describe what the Pope did as anything less than dramatic and sweeping.

Alcuin Reid, OSB quotes the views of a number of liturgical scholars on this action by Pope St. Pius X:

1. Anton Baumstark (in a scathing remark): Down to the year 1911 there was nothing in the Christian liturgy of such absolute universality as this practice in the morning office, and no doubt its universality was inherited from the Synagogue … hence, to [this “reform”] of Psalterium Romanun  belongs the distinction of having brought to an end the universal observance of a liturgical practice which was followed by the Divine Redeemer himself during his life on earth.

2. Pius Parsch commented, It is rather amazing that despite the conservative character of the Church Pius X should have resolved on this vast change which went counter to a practice of 1500 years’ standing.

3. Robert Taft, SJ: …this was a shocking departure from the almost universal Christian tradition.

4. William Bonniwell, OP: In the revision of Pius X the venerable office of the Roman Church was gravely mutilated.

All these quotes are from Alcuin Reid’s The Organic Development of the Liturgy (pp. 74-76).

Frankly, Pius X’s move was unprecedented in liturgical history. And though Urban VIII’s unfortunate redaction of the Latin Hymns of the Breviary was also an unfortunate and imprudent mutilation of ancient masterpieces, their use in the Church was less universal than the psalms of Lauds, and the redaction was not imposed by judicial power.

The issue may seem minor to those unfamiliar with the Office, but the precedent of using sweeping judicial power to simply end an ancient tradition is not minor at all. It is the same thinking that would later allow a sweeping change of the Mass to be promulgated in 1970 and for the Old Rite to be “abolished” by judicial fiat of the Pope. The Mass promulgated in 1970 was not specified by the Second Vatican Council Fathers, but by a small consilium. It was not marked by organic change but (as Pope Benedict and others have observed) rather was characterized by a hermeneutic of rupture and discontinuity. Only later would Pope Benedict XVI teach that there was no precedent for or right to abolish the older form Roman Rite (a rite far older than 200 years).

But all this heavy-handed use of papal power ironically had a precedent in Pope St. Pius X, the favored saint of many lovers of tradition. And there were other liturgical waves that emanated from this indisputably good man and pope that have troubled us since. Among them was the disruption in the order of the Sacraments when Pope Pius X moved First Communion to early youth but did not attend to the Sacrament of Confirmation. Thus the ancient order of initiation: Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist was disrupted and Confirmation became a kind of “hanging” Sacrament, detached from its liturgical and theological moorings. The result was its reduction to a kind of Catholic Bar Mitzvah and a lot of other questionable paradigms.

Further, Pope Pius X was also dismissive, if not juridically forbidding, of orchestral masses. And while he fostered chant—a good thing—he also suppressed a musical form that had inspired most of the classical composers (e.g., Mozart, Schubert, and Beethoven) to contribute to the Church’s musical patrimony. It would be 70 years before such Masses would again be heard widely in the Church.

Again, all these issues are less significant for their immediate effect and more significant for the groundwork they laid for what came later in the century.  The sudden liturgical changes of  the 1960s would not have been possible in previous ages since, though the Pope and Rome were strongly influential, local bishops and churches had a lot more leeway and influence on the Liturgy.

As stated above, this setup is not without its own troubles. Too much diversity leads to chaos and difficulty. Some general norms need to hold sway and regional and even ecumenical councils need to help clean out extreme diversity by reasserting proper liturgical principles.

However, centralizing power over the liturgy within the papacy also presents serious difficulties. Plainly put, the Liturgy is just too important to have it all depend on the notions of one man, even a holy man like Pius X. Many of his reforms were good, even necessary, and his sanctity is not in dispute. But even saints do not get everything right, and some of what they say and do may later be exaggerated or corrupted by those that follow.

In recent decades, traditional Catholics have looked to Rome to resolve liturgical debates. At one level this has been necessary, since many local bishops and churches have seemingly abdicated their responsibility to oversee the Liturgy, correct abuses, and guarantee the legitimate rights of the faithful.

However, traditional Catholics would also do well to understand the problems inherent in having an overly centralized control of the Sacred Liturgy. More needs to be done by traditional Catholics to build a foundation for good Liturgy in the local churches where they reside by building a culture that is respectful of tradition and sober about the pitfalls of depending too much on papal authority.

How strange it is that the paragon of traditional Catholicism should have, even if unwittingly, helped paved the way for the (I would argue) excessive use of supreme judicial authority in regard to the Liturgy, a use so sweeping that even Pope Benedict would have to announce that the suppression of the older Roman Rite was neither possible nor in effect.

Just one of those strange moments in liturgical history.

As we prepare for the Feast of the Presentation (Sunday, February 2), I though it might be appropriate to describe a liturgy of the Church that is largely lost to most today, “The Churching of Women.” To some extent it is subsumed in the modern Rite of Baptism with the blessing of the Mother, but it is not what it used to be. We CAN still celebrate this for women who ask, and I often do celebrate it especially when I do extraordinary form Baptisms.

The Churching of Women is very rooted int he feast of the Presentation. Biblically this feast commemorates the Jewish practice of a woman presenting herself at the temple forty days after the birth of a male child in order to be “purified” and blessed by the priest. Mary as an observant Jew fulfilled this obligation and it is recorded in Luke 2:22-24:

When the time of their purification according to the Law of Moses had been completed, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord”and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: “a pair of doves or two young pigeons.”

The Jewish practice of “purifying” a woman after childbirth was set forth in the Book of Leviticus 12:1-8:

The LORD said to Moses, “Say to the Israelites: ‘A woman who becomes pregnant and gives birth to a son will be ceremonially unclean for seven days, just as she is unclean during her monthly period. On the eighth day the boy is to be circumcised. Then the woman must wait thirty-three days to be purified from her bleeding. She must not touch anything sacred or go to the sanctuary until the days of her purification are over. If she gives birth to a daughter, for two weeks the woman will be unclean, as during her period. Then she must wait sixty-six days to be purified from her bleeding. ” ‘When the days of her purification for a son or daughter are over, she is to bring to the priest at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting a year-old lamb for a burnt offering and a young pigeon or a dove for a sin offering. He shall offer them before the LORD to make atonement for her, and then she will be ceremonially clean from her flow of blood.” ‘These are the regulations for the woman who gives birth to a boy or a girl. If she cannot afford a lamb, she is to bring two doves or two young pigeons, one for a burnt offering and the other for a sin offering. In this way the priest will make atonement for her, and she will be clean.’ “

As you can see, there is a fairly negative concept at work in the Old Testament concept. A woman becomes ritually “unclean” by giving birth. This was due to the flow of blood and/or other fluids at birth. Even more distressing to modern notions is that a woman who gave birth to a daughter was considered ritually unclean for even longer! Alas, it is well that the power of the Church to bind and loose has freed us from this thinking. Keep in mind that this was ceremonial law, not moral law and, hence, the Church is not setting aside immutable moral law in abrogating such notions of ritual impurity.

Nevertheless the custom and instinct of blessing women after childbirth was retained in the Church with an altered understanding from Jewish teaching. That rite came down through the centuries and was widely intact until very recent times and as we have said, was referred to in many places as the “Churching of Women.” (The official Latin title of the Rite was actually benedictio mulieris post partum – (the blessing of women after giving birth)). The rite was largely discontinued in the 1960s in the wake of the Second Vatican Council. The Book of Blessings published in 1984 does contain a “Blessing of a Woman after Childbirth” but it is seldom used and is significantly altered from the old rite in use until about 1965. There is also a blessing of the Mother at the Rite of Infant Baptism.

The reasons for the discontinuance are many. I remember my mother and other women of my mother’s generation saying they had been taught the Jewish history of this rite and thus rejected it for that reason. But the Catholic Church was clear to distinguish its practice from the Jewish roots. Pope Gregory as early as the 6th Century protested any notion that defilement was incurred by childbirth. Further, the prayers of the old “Churching of Women” Rite never mentioned a need for purification and spoke only of blessing and thanksgiving. So those who taught women of my Mother’s generation against this practice were probably engaged more in polemics than true Church history. Another reason for the discontinuance was probably and simply that so many things were dropped during the changes in the wake of the Council.

On this Feast of the Presentation I would like to recommend this beautiful ritual to your attention. In an extended sense it fulfills What Mary did at the presentation, forty days after the birth of Christ. Surely we do not understand it in an Old Testament way, but we rescue and fulfill the tradition with the beauty of Christian faith and the dignity of women who are mothers.

I have attached a PDF version of it here: The Churching of Women. Though it has never been required by the Church it is a beautiful way to welcome back and bless a woman who has perhaps been away for a few weeks giving birth. She has labored well for her family, her child and the Church and this ritual can serve simultaneously as a blessing and thanksgiving extended by the Church to the noble women who are our mothers. The blessing can be given after a baptism, after mass, collectively to recent mothers, or individually. It is true that the current baptismal rite contains a blessing for the mother but this older rite is a more single and special blessing. Pope Benedict’s  Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum permitting the older forms of the sacraments to be used has made these older rituals also more available. Here is the concluding prayer of the rite:

Almighty, everlasting God, through the delivery of the blessed Virgin Mary, Thou hast turned into joy the pains of the faithful in childbirth; look mercifully upon this Thy handmaid, coming in gladness to Thy temple to offer up her thanks: and grant that after this life, by the merits and intercession of the same blessed Mary, she may merit to arrive, together with her offspring, at the joys of everlasting happiness. Through Christ our Lord.

I looked for a video depicting the Churching of Women but found none. Instead enjoy this video by Shirley Ceasar which celebrates the love of a mother as an image of God’s love: The full cost of my love is “no-charge”

As some of you know, I write the question-and-answer column for the Our Sunday Visitor weekly newspaper. Here’s a link to some of my back columns: OSV Q & A Columns.

Recently, a liturgical question came in from a Catholic in a Diocese that will remain nameless.  Below is the question, along with my brief answer. I’m curious to get some feedback from you about the matter. So I’ll ask a few more questions after the quote from my column.

Q: Our archdiocese has decided that all receiving communion should remain standing until all have completed receiving. The rationale is a sign of unity. However, this does not seem very worshipful, and though we are permitted to be seated after the celebrant is seated, very little time is given for prayer. I’ve chosen not to remain standing, but to observe the traditional practice of returning to my pew, and kneeling in prayer. And I being disobedient?

A: The instructions in the Roman Missal are silent regarding the posture of the faithful during the Communion Rite, though after the Rite they may sit or kneel during the silence (# 43).  A local Bishop does have some authority to request that certain norms that do not violate universal norms be followed in his diocese. Other things being equal, it would seem that the faithful should give due consideration, and strive to follow these norms.

However, the norm you have articulated does present a few practical issues. Most notably, it would seem that the elderly and others with issues of physical stamina might find it difficult to stand for so long. Also, as you point out, it does make prayer difficult at a time that is often very precious to people for a quiet moment with the Lord. Given the rather hurried nature of most American liturgies, it seems unlikely that significant time will be reserved for quiet prayer after all are seated.

Given that the local bishop does have the authority to request certain norms be observed, I might encourage you to strive to listen to what he’s teaching. Perhaps there is an issue in the local church he is trying to address. While prayer certainly pleases the Lord, obedience pleases him even more. Scripture says, Sacrifice or offering you wished not, but ears open to obedience you gave me” (Ps 40:4).

In terms of answering your question in an absolutely legal sense, while not a canonist, I suspect that this norm should be interpreted in the same way that the norm for receiving communion standing in this country is interpreted. While the norm requests, for the sake of unity, the faithful receive Communion standing, an exception is to be made for those who strongly prefer to receive kneeling (GIRM #160). So it seems allowance needs to be made for the faithful who strongly prefer kneeling in silent prayer.

As in all things, balance is required in understanding the nature of Holy Mass. Mass is essentially the communal act of Christ with all His people; it is not essentially a private devotion. However, times of silent prayer and reflection are often mentioned in the general norms. But frankly, with the rather hurried masses of modern times, periods of silent reflection are often nonexistent. In this sense, your concerns are understandable.

I surely encourage you to stay in communion with your bishop, and to continue to raise your concerns.

Of course you may or may not like the answer that I supplied, but I would ask you to recall that the column requires rather brief answers. Further, as a priest, I’m in the chain of command and you will not find me encouraging Catholics to disregard our bishops. That said, I do have some questions.

1. Is this practice of standing after receiving Communion until all have received something you have witnessed? Does it go on in your parish? Do you think it is becoming more widespread?

2. When I came to my current parish in 2007, it was the practice of the congregation to remain standing until all had received communion and the tabernacle door was closed. I had never seen this practice before and it puzzled me, but I did not seek to end it since, as I say above, the instructions are silent about the posture of the people during the Communion Rite after having received communion.

Within a few months of being here however, I received requests from parish leadership to remind the faithful that they should remiain standing, since some were not complying with the parish custom. But I was unwilling to issue this reminder since I did not think that I could require something of the people that the general instructions did not require.

Hence, there are some who currently remain standing after receiving communion and others who kneel. It may look a bit strange, but I see no need as a pastor to interfere with people’s freedom at this moment.

3. However, there is something of a different situation when the local Ordinary requests that all of his people adopt this posture. While I’m fairly certain that a bishop cannot absolutely require this of the faithful, I do suspect that he is within his rights to request strongly that they observe it—particularly if he has some reason to do so.

As a pastor, under the authority of a bishop, if I were asked to teach the faithful and request that they adopt a standing posture until all had received communion, I would do so. However, I doubt I would enforce discipline on those who felt strongly that they should kneel.

3. What do you think of the point above that the Sacred Liturgy, while not a private devotion, per se, nevertheless requires more silent periods than our usual rushed liturgies provide? Even if the people don’t stand, they are still encouraged by the norms to sing the communion hymn. How do we balance the communal nature of the Mass with moments for more private prayer? If there were a longer time for silence after communion, how long do you think it should be?

At any rate, I’m curious to know your thoughts about the practice. If you support it, why? If you do not, why not? Please avoid posting disrespectful comments about bishops. This blog does not exist to provide a forum for that, and I cannot post such comments. It is all right to disagree, or to express some wonderment at the practice, but please do so respectfully.