Showing posts with label Our Lady of Walsingham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Our Lady of Walsingham. Show all posts

Friday, December 30, 2016

A Very Ordinari[ate] Christmas


For the second year in a row I spent Christmas at Our Lady of Walsingham in Houston, once a church and now the small cathedral of the Ordinariate for those of Anglican patrimony in the United States. Msgr. Steven Lopes, formerly a priest who worked to establish the Ordinariate structure and now its bishop, pontificated solemn Mass and preached the sermon.

Like last year a prelude of traditional Christmas carols preceded the Mass with such hymns as O Holy Night, O Little Town of Bethlehem, and Once in Royal David's City. Before the procession the deacon sang the Proclamation of the Birth of Christ, which is still retained in some churches after the disgraceful abolition of Prime in 1964. O Come All Ye Faithful was the processional hymn. Despite the prominence of hymns the propers were sung in English to their corresponding Latin Gregorian melodies. In a change from prior Masses at Walsingham, the lessons themselves were sung according to the old chanted melodies, with the prophecy tone for the Isaiah reading and the epistle tone for St. Paul to Titus. The psalm was sung straight through without the mundane responsorial melodies that plague the Pauline Mass. Angels We Have Heard on High was sung as a sequence after the Alleluia, not exactly the Sarum tradition, but a beautiful hymn none the less. The bishop pontificated from his throne, but despite the presence of Fr. Hough, the rector and MC, the Tridentine ritual normally imitated in Ordinariate communities was not followed.


Bishop Lopes began his edifying sermon with the Saint Andrew's prayer from an old holy card and noted how very Catholic, how gritty and real the language used in it was. For Christians the temptation is not losing Christmas in commercialism, he said, but in losing it in the many "real meaning of Christmas" bromides of the secular world: Christmas is hope (for what?), it is peace (which is what?), and so on. The birth of Christ was not a glamorous event; it transpired in a farm barn in the cold of night and the only witnesses were oxen and people who follow sheep around for a living (the Wisemen came at some point in the next two years). The fact is that there is one way to immortality, that is through the Incarnate God, Jesus Christ. It was a real event with real consequences. And it happened in Bethlehem, in the piercing cold, at midnight.


As usual, the standard of music is excellent for a parish choir, as exemplified by this rendition of Wilcox's setting of the Sussex Carol at the offertory.

At Communion Victoria's setting of O Magnum Mysterium and Silent Night were sung by candlelight. The bishop recited the Last Gospel aloud after the pontifical blessing and Mass concluded with Joy to the World.

As usual Mass at Our Lady of Walsingham is both beautiful and visionary, reflecting both a mind for what inspires and for what elements of the Latin tradition that elevate the mind to God can be revived.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Rood People


After first encountering Our Lady of Walsingham two years ago it has become my regular haunt when I visit family in Houston. I was pleasantly surprised when arriving for this morning's First Sunday of Advent Mass to hear choral Mattins underway, psalms, lessons, and all. It is the first time I have encountered a non-oriental church in Texas that has bothered with the Divine Office, much less on Sunday when most people just want their Mass and coffee.

I noticed one other difference, only after some discernment: some way, some how a rood screen had appeared in medio templi. I thought back and recalled accurately that there had not been one before, just a vestige of one above the altar rail, not unlike St. George's in Sudbury. According to the bulletin the rood screen was added and dedicated the prior week during the Mass for Paul VI's date of Christ the King. The cathedral rector, Fr. Charles Hough IV, writes:
"From the earliest times, Christian architecture has always given special prominence to the Altar as the focus of attention and nucleus, the beating heart of the faithful gathered before it to share in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and to feed on Jesus the Bread of Life. Indeed, the church building is essentially a canopy raised over the Altar with corresponding environs for those who attend on the holy mysteries. Reflecting the tripartite structure of the Hebrew Temple, the traditional parts of Christian churches delineate sacred space and mark a path of ascent toward the Altar. The nave represents the "Inner Court," while the chancel mirrors the "Holy Place," and all rises and points to the sanctuary figuring forth the 'Holy of Holies' and the very dwelling place of God with His people....
"After the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 affirmed the teaching of transubstantiation and promoted the reservation of the Blessed Sacrament in tabernacles at the high Altar, even modest parish churches acquired beautifully carved chancel screens. These screens raised the vision of the faithful to the cross above with its image of our crucified Lord, flanked by the Blessed Virgin Mary and the beloved Apostle John. And these screens also directed the gaze forward, as through a doorframe or window, to the sight of the priest at the Altar elevating the Sacred Species at the moment of their consecration....
"In the sixteenth century, when the Reformation came to England, many of these screens were destroyed, though some survived. The roods and statues, however, were invariably removed and frequently replaced by images of the royal coat of arms, usurping the place of our suffering Lord with the painting of earthly power....
"Around the same time and certainly after the Council of Trent (1545-1563), rood screens began to disappear from Catholic churches in continental Europe for very different reasons. During the Counter-Reformation and under the influence of a baroque aesthetic, medieval styles gave way to neo-classical fashion. Newer churches modelled after the Jesuit church in Rome Il GesĂș were built featuring open proscenium arches and lofty altarpieces for a more 'theatrical' staging of the miracle of the Eucharist as inspired, in part, by the nascent arts of the opera and secular drama.... But the real credit for the revival of fully appointed rood screens belongs to the brilliant English Catholic architect Augustus Welby Pugin (1812-1852). His influence was vast and spurred a return to medieval models in building both Anglican and Catholic churches amid the Victorian gothic revival."
Bishop Lopes, Fr. Hough, and the community of Our Lady of Walsingham are to be commended for their superb efforts. Let us hope a few other parishes follow their example.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Our Lady of Walsingham: Visiting the Ordinariate

The Rad Trad attended Mass the last two Sundays at Our Lady of Walsingham in Houston, the principle church of the American Ordinariate for those of Episcopalian or Anglican backgrounds who wish to enter the Catholic Church while retaining elements of their English liturgical heritage. I witnessed the birth of the British Ordinariate and awaited what the American counterpart had in store.

Our Lady of Walsingham is English gothic in its design, without a trace of the baroque, save the absence of the rood screen. While there is no rood screen, there is a hint of one, with a crossbeam bearing the Crucifix and Our Lady with St. John the Beloved towering above the altar railing. The reredos behind the altar remind me of the reredos behind the altar at Christ Church Cathedral in Oxford, which follow a similar design and color pattern as many other medieval English reredos. This particular one is an elongated replica of the one above the altar in the Slipper Chapel in Walsingham.




The servers pleased the shop keeper of the best liturgical boutique this side of the Tiber, wearing full length English cassocks, almost like loose albs. The clergy too wore gothic vesture and the priest, Fr Charles Hough IV—son of resident priest Fr Charles Hough III—donned the maniple. Given that it was Remembrance Sunday and All Souls, the color was black and the propers of the Requiem Mass were integrated into the full Sunday liturgy. The concept of a Mass for the Dead on a Sunday made me uneasy. Something about reciting the Creed while wearing black vestments just does not work, but otherwise the Mass was wonderful as was the follow Sunday's Mass, the Dedication of the Lateran Cathedral—a feast neglected in the Pauline liturgy on Sundays.


From this pulpit Fr Peter Walters, visiting from Casa Walsingham mission in Columbia—dedicated to feeding street children, preached the sermon and made an appeal to the good hearts of the faithful to support Casa Walsingham. The dead are not yet truly beyond our help, he said, nor are those who still live and whose lives can be continued with Christian dignity.


Hearing the pipe organ brought back memories of the great organs the churches of Connecticut boasted in their choir lofts, something I have missed in the Eastern Churches and in the various FSSP offerings here in Texas. The choir itself was composed of no less than a dozen singers, male and female voices ranging in age from pre-pubescence to around age forty, giving the choir a soaring range. The Mass began and ended with hymns, but the proper antiphons and responses of the Mass were all chanted. The ordinary of the Mass was chanted in Latin while the propers were chanted in English. I for one found their English chant a relief. In settings of the Pauline liturgy, those chanting the English texts of the Mass and Hours tend to sing with a stilted, effeminate voice similar to that of a high school production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. This English chant was Gregorian, masculine, and robust. I would suggest eliminating the organ backing on the chant though, unless it is absolutely necessary to keep the vocalists on key.


In a separate room was this "Holy House" chapel, built to the exact dimensions of the shrine to Our Lady in Walsingham, England. Weekdays Masses are celebrated here, as is Morning Prayer and occasionally Evensong. While in this chapel a kind couple asked my friend and I if we would like to pray Evensong with them and we obliged them. Although celebrating the Dedication of the Lateran, the liturgical texts given are clearly based on the Book of Divine Worship and the Anglican tradition: psalms, lessons, the Magnificat, Intercessions, and the Canticle of Simeon. I read the lessons and received a disapproving stare when I forgot to say "Thus endeth the lesson", but I remembered the second time around and all was forgiven. Aside from the readings, all liturgical texts are rendered in Tudor English.


The Ordo Missae combines elements of the Roman rite with various editions of the Anglican Book of Common Prayer. Anyone who has attended an Anglican service—and I last attended one when I was ten—will recognize the prayers given above. The Gloria was sung after the Kyrie of course. After the Creed and before the Offertory, a litany clearly based on the Byzantine Great Litany was sung. The Comfortable Words were spoken. The Eucharistic Prayer was the Roman Canon. There was no silly Offertory procession. Several traditional English prayers were used before and after Communion, including the lengthy and beautiful "Almighty and ever-living God...." The priests and deacon administered Communion by intinction to kneeling faithful at the rail. 



I was of two minds about some of these things. The prayers are beautiful and, at least among the ones integrated into the liturgy, bear no heterodoxy whatsoever. On the other hand, I can understand the concern that the Ordinariate is using the prayers of those who martyred believers. I prefer to think of our use of these prayers in the Ordinariate as an act of Baptism, washing them clean and accepting them with good faith.

Apparently, so two parishioners told me, these greatly distinctive English elements (Evensong, the Anglican prayers etc) nearly did not make it into the liturgy. When the time came to finalize a general usage for the Ordinariates around the world the American Ordinariate wanted to assimilate Anglican and Roman prayers while the English Ordinariate wanted to do the Pauline Roman rite with a few English flourishes. The Americans held firm and won out. 


Our Lady of Walsingham may seem plain compared to other churches, but the building is little more than a decade old with high growth potential.




This imposing edifice stands adjacent to the church. The altar is a proper one and consecrated for use during outdoor Masses. The structure is a replica of the remaining ruin of Walsingham Abbey, destroyed by Henry VIII in 1538.


Parishioners tended to be mix of former Anglicans and Episcopalians with cradle Catholics looking for a lively, vibrant, reverent place to pray and live out their faith. The schedule has a Mass and some other sort of function (Rosary, Morning Prayer, Evensong, guest lectures, marriage counselling) every day of the week.


One can almost hear:

Weep Weep O Walsingam,
Whose dayes are nights,
Blessings turned to blasphemies,
Holy deeds to despites
Sinne is where our Ladye sate,
Heaven turned is to helle;
Satan sitthe where our Lord did swaye,
Walsingham O farewell!