A Thinking Reed

"Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed" – Blaise Pascal

Further adventures in Anglo-Catholicism

This Sunday Abby and I went to our first “Solemn Mass” at the Church of the Advent. Until yesterday we’d been going to the earlier Sung Mass, which follows the Rite II Eucharist from the Book of Common Prayer pretty closely with just a couple of flourishes, such as the “Prayer of Humble Access.” In form and content, though, it’s not terribly different from the Lutheran liturgies we’re used to.

The Solemn Mass, though, is another animal. First off, it’s in Rite I language. There are also various “introits,” “graduals,” and “sentences” here and there whose provenance is somewhat unclear to me. But the most notable difference is that the Kyrie, the Gloria, the Sursum corda, and the Sanctus and Benedictus are all sung only by the choir and in Latin. The choir, which returned for the first time yesterday after being off for the summer, has a (well-deserved as far as I can tell) reputation for excellence and it was on full display. Another distinctively Anglo-Catholic touch was the responsive recitation of the Angelus at the very end of the service. With all these bells and whistles the whole affair stretched to about an hour and a half (and that’s with the sermon being less than fifteen minutes).

While there’s no denying the beauty of this form of worship, I couldn’t help but think that I was missing out on something by not directly participating as much. I’m no great singer (though I can carry a tune all right), but I find that singing the hymns and the liturgy enables me to worship in about as un-self-conscious a way as I’m able. When I’m passively observing, by contrast, I find it’s much more likely that my mind will wander. Part of what attracted me to liturgical worship in the first place is that we’re given the words with which to respond to God. One learns the language of prayer by speaking (or singing) it in the course of the service.

Don’t get me wrong, in many ways it was a wonderful service, and on a holy day in particular it’s hard to see how you could beat it, but I have a hard time imagining it as my “weekly bread.” Of course, I can’t discount the possibility that greater familiarity would change my experience. Or maybe I’m just too Protestant. 😉

12 responses to “Further adventures in Anglo-Catholicism”

  1. I’m quite Catholic, yet agree with you completely about participation vs. observation, although some would argue (not without justification) that the participation necessary at liturgy is not necessarily personal participation in everything that goes on (we can’t all be priests/celebrants/presiders/whatever the politically correct term is). I much prefer the old Latin chants to most things in modern hymnals, but then again, I understand them. 🙂

    We need serious work done on translating old Latin and Greek hymns, and composing new ones in that same vein, which is to say prayerful words with prayerful music. Sadly, Catholic monasteries don’t appear interested in stepping up to that plate. Of course, J.M. Neale, J.H. Newman, and others like them did some spectacular work on that about two centuries ago, but you wouldn’t know it from most of the churches I’ve visited.

    Another thought. One wonders if modern musical sensibilities render sacred music a foreign language. (Emphasis on sacred, not on music — and truly sacred music is far different from 99% of the hymns written today.) In such a case, it might be “impossible” for many moderns to participate in a traditional service, which leaves people like me (a diminishing minority) in a curious quandary.

    This is all strictly IMHO of course.

  2. Derek the Ænglican

    Introits, graduals and such were part of the Sevice Book & Hymnal (aka the old Red Book) for LCA folk…

    Yeah, it takes some getting used to. But then–so does Guinness… and I’d sure rather drink a Guiness than some American rice water that pretends to be beer.

    One of these days I’l have to get up to a mass there…

  3. Jack – I agree with you that there are degrees and kinds of participation appropriate for clergy, laity, etc. C.S. Lewis says somewhere that he loves the fact that there are points during the Mass where he’s kneeling and the priest is standing because it reminds him that the kind of equality we have in Christ is as different members of the same Body with different tasks, not the kind of equality of sameness that modern egalitarian sensibilities might suggest.

    I also agree that not only is sacred music foreign to many of us, but so is music period. By which I mean any feel or appreciation for something other than popular music. I know that I am woefully ignorant of the technics of music, can’t read music, etc. And many people distrust anything that isn’t immediately accessible as elitist. On the other hand, there is something to be said for music that is accessible to (and singable by!) the average person in the pew. I like to think that it’s possible to do both. I’d rank some of the hymns of the Wesleys among the best of Christian music, for instance.

    Derek – Point taken, and I’m sure it won’t be our last time at a Solemn Mass. Though, I’m not sure I’d want to drink Guinness every day. Sometimes you want something that goes down a little more smoothly. 😉

  4. Pedantry: the Kyrie is in Greek, a remnant from when the Roman Christians used that language.

    Sister: How do you say ‘Lord, have mercy’ in Latin?
    Precocious Pupil: Miserere, Domine.

    My views on liturgy are well known and interestingly echoed here by new friend Derek.

    But I can criticise fairly: I think a problem with the Solemn Mass is the practice of interrupting the liturgical action essentially to have a concert – the sacred ministers sit down and the choir do their thing.

    In the Orthodox tradition the Russians don’t congregationally sing but one doesn’t necessarily feel deprived. The Liturgy doesn’t feel interrupted partly because there’s almost constant singing.

    A solution would be a congregationally sung chant Mass, something the legitimate liturgical movement was aiming for before Vatican II ruined everything.

    The Rite I language means something: it’s objective and Godward (vertical), not obnoxiously flattened out (horizontalised) like the official vernacular paraphrases of the Novus Ordo or Rite II. Even Cranmer still shared that C16 Godward worldview with the Catholic Church and his work, such as the Prayer of Humble Access (which you can read as a trope of Domine, non sum dignus, the prayer of the centurion), reflects that.

    BTW, unlike some classical music, chant is not hard to access nor élitist. As musicologist Thomas Day points out, not only is it numinous but part of its effectiveness and lasting appeal is the fact that it is very singable.

  5. Just to clarify – this post was intended to be a reportage of my response, not a criticism per se of the Solemn Mass. It’s not my intention to set myself up as the judge of liturgical correctness, since I’m pretty ignorant of such matters.

    Fogey – You’re right of course about the Kyrie. And the chant suggestion is an interesting one. Also, I had no intention of slamming the Rite I language, which I think does have many of the qualities you mentioned.

    But, yeah, I think you described my reaction when you say it’s kind of like having a concert in the middle of Mass. At least that was my first response. But I’d be happy to have that corrected by further experience.

  6. I had the chance to attend the Divine Liturgy in Russia a year or so ago. I only know about three words in Russian and was unaccompianied, so it was an interesting immersion experience.

    The interesting thing about it was that while the “congregation” didn’t sing (and I couldn’t even tell you where the choir was hidden), everyone was deeply involved — constantly kneeling, bowing and crossing themselves. As I watched and did my best to follow along, coupled with the immersion of smell and being surrounded by icons on every side, I found it to be a fuller worship experience than I get on a typical Sunday, despite the fact that I neither sang nor understood a word of what was being sung around me.

    That said, I don’t know if it I could do that every week.

  7. The idea that you have to verbalize the responses and hymns to be fully participating in the Mass is a modern concept that would be completely foreign to most Catholics throughout history.

    Simply hearing the Mass is full participation. If you want to say the responses, that’s personal prefernce, which is perfectly fine, but I don’t think that in the eyes of God it’s any more participatory than staying on your knees for the entire Mass and silently praying along.

  8. Yes! Wesley hymns rule! (mostly)

    One thing I like about Russian churches is that whenever I visit them, there is always a small group of women standing before an icon and singing sweetly. Unless they’re standing in line to view the holy icon of Kazan and singing sweetly. They try to make their churches feel like heaven, where you’d like to spend lots and lots of time, and they succeed. Modern Westerners, by contrast, build churches that feel like, uhm, the last place you’d want to spend a lot of time, and we succeed. This is a gross generalization, of course, but if I ever see another Catholic church talk about the Sunday masses in its “multi-function room” I’m going Russian Orthodox. (j/k)

    Young Fogey wrote: I think a problem with the Solemn Mass is the practice of interrupting the liturgical action essentially to have a concert – the sacred ministers sit down and the choir do their thing.

    Depends. I’ve been to masses like you describe, but I woulnd’t say that’s characteristic of most of the solemn masses out there. Eleven years ago, for example, I participated (as a layman) in a solemn mass according to the missal of Pope Pius VI at the Norbertine monastery in California. It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, and a lot more participatory than most of the contemporary masses I attend. I’d say that about most of the masses I’ve attended that use chant, especially those that mix Latin and English chant, but to be fair you’re probably not attending such a mass unless you comprehend the chants.

    It would be interesting to ask whether those who frequent masses of the Missal of Pope St. Pius V (eg FSSP, SSPX) are more likely to appreciate concert masses. At this point I’m using abbreviations that are highly specific to recent Catholic schisms and reconciliations, so I’d better quit 🙂

  9. Andy, Sounds wonderful. I’m sorry to say I’ve never been to an Orthodox service. I have to remedy that at some point…

    Mr. DGF, I don’t doubt that you’re correct. However, speaking only for myself, the concentration required for sustained sheer mental prayer isn’t always there. Since we’re embodied creatures and not pure spirits, it makes sense to me that worship would involve using our bodies, our voices, and all our senses (which, BTW, is one of things I really like about my parish – it is a multisensory experience. ;)). Maybe this does have something to do with a “Protestant” understanding of the purpose and meaning of worship vs. a “Catholic” one?

  10. Derek the Ænglican

    I get your point, Lee, and no–solemn high mass can’t be your daily bread. Most of the daily masses I’ve been to were low masses. We save the solem high masses for really special occasions…like Sundays. 😀

  11. Not DGF, but I’d like to reply.

    Since we’re embodied creatures and not pure spirits, it makes sense to me that worship would involve using our bodies, our voices, and all our senses (which, BTW, is one of things I really like about my parish – it is a multisensory experience. ;)). Maybe this does have something to do with a “Protestant” understanding of the purpose and meaning of worship vs. a “Catholic” one?

    There’s a reason “good Catholics” used to pray the Rosary during Mass: it engages the body much as the Orthodox habit of bowing & touching the ground. My mother still insists on praying the Rosary during the entire Mass, even thought she understands the language perfectly today. In a sense, she sees that as her job during Mass. She grumbles that these modern masses with freewheeling priests and no physical engagement aside from the grip & grin greeting are blasphemous. “Church is for prayer,” she points out rightly, “not for socializing.” Italian Catholics love touching and kissing the statues and pictures, crossing themselves, walking in and out of a Mass, etc. I don’t think it’s a Protestant vs. Catholic thing at all.

  12. I’d like to clarify something: the reason the Russian Orthodox Liturgy doesn’t feel interrupted is because it literally isn’t. During long choral parts such as ‘Only-begotten Son’, the Creed, the Cherubic Hymn or the time before the people’s Communion the priest is at the Holy Table (altar) or zhertvennik (table of oblation) praying, censing the elements or receiving Communion.

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