According to my ordo recitandi from the St. Lawrence Press today I must turn back my liturgical clock, if only a few hours.
Lectio libri S. Laurentii
The Angelus and Sunday Vespers continue at the normal time, but ferial Vespers are said by noon and typically Mattins and Lauds are anticipated the prior evening, which we recognize in the rites of the un-reformed Triduum and Paschal Mattins on Saturday evening. Before I tried this schedule I easily conceded that it was an accommodation to monks who wanted to cheat their fast and have their meal after Vespers. After having prayed the old way for four years now I see the value of the inversion in the reversed times; the Resurrection restores order and puts things the way they should be.
A "private Mass"?
The X in the right column for Monday indicates a votive Mass of the Dead may be sung this day. Votive Masses are prohibited during Lent and generally during Advent but the Roman Church did permit one Requiem Mass for deceased friends and benefactors to be celebrated on the first ferial day of the week with the accompanying Officium Defunctorum. The St. Lawrence ordo's abbreviation key indicates that the X signifies a "private Mass", however before 1960(2?) "private Mass" did not mean a low Mass celebrated in a sequestered environment, just a Mass other than the one canonically required for the day. A parish priest is only required to celebrate Mass on Sundays and Holy Days; religious orders are required to celebrate the full liturgy every day. A "private Mass" is a permitted special addition in either of those settings according to the old scheme of things. It really is a misnomer, given that a cardinal archbishop could celebrate a pontifical high Mass with full polyphony and it would be "private".
Has not the older liturgy a richness to it that encourages more effort on the part of the faithful?
Look for our usual Officium Defunctorum page in the near future. We will be praying the Office of the Dead on the first ferial day of each Lenten week for your intentions.
I was asked by an eighth grader recently what sort of music I like. I replied that I like Classical music and various kinds of chant and choral work. She said, "Oh that's old stuff, like from the '70s, isn't it?" His Traddiness nearly choked on the air he breathed.
We must remember that we live in a post-Beatles society and almost all music is now saturated with traces of their subversive influence, traces of immature sexuality, rebellion against a now gone social order, and inane rhythm.
As a rule of thumb I avoid most all music that has a bass line and drums, making an exception for some jazz work. I know very little about "metal music" given its relative lack of popularity where I went to high school, but I am more than familiar with "rock n' roll." What an indictment it is that Elton John—a very unique individual to say the least—is by far one of the most "normal" and "talented" in his industry, especially since he has produced such insightful work as "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting." The Beatles take the cake in my book. Who could possibly top the word "I am the Walrus. I am the milkman. I am the egg man."
Music does not have to be intelligent or complicated to be enjoyable. Indeed a great deal of music is wonderful because of its lack of pretension and its brevity. Even a waltz can be soothing to the ear. Mozart made a career of writing such light music. Mozart also turned out great symphonies (41 being my favorite) and of course his Requiem Mass. While against the use of orchestras at Mass, I will say that his Requiem Mass is actually usable at a real Mass, given the modest length of the Kyrie, Offertory, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei. Beethoven's Missa Solemnis is purely a theatre piece.
Perhaps a cure for the youth would be a prescription to learn an actual instrument other than the guitar. I can think of no greater means of appreciating Bach than playing his work on an organ, nor a greater way of knowing Beethoven than by playing his piano works (that is how I came to love Beethoven). Regardless, the future generations must learn that [good] music predates them by much more than a generation or two.
The first time I took a friend to a solemn high Mass I offered him a translation of the various antiphons and readings from my Baronius hand missal, but he declined to use it, instead preferring to listen to the chants and readings being sung as they were. Despite not knowing Latin he learned a great deal at that Mass. How could he not?
Today is a day where the Mass and its texts teach us a lot. The Requiem Mass is one of the most sublime and haunting amalgamation of texts and chants ever heard. Some of the polyphonic and orchestral settings for today's Mass—especially Mozart's—can thunder over you, but nothing quite does the job on the Inroit or Dies Irae like plainsong.
The tract, Dies Irae, originally fell on the first Sunday of Advent, emphasizing the apocalyptic nature of the season, as we anticipate Christ's coming. Its current place, in the Requiem Mass, is similarly fitting: this Mass prays for those who are meeting or have met God's awesome judgment. The first several verses give us an eerie picture of our own judgment, particularly the first verse:
Day of wrath, that day
When the world will dissolve in ashes burning
As told by David and Sybil
Later the great hymn focuses on the deceased, probably a later addition:
How tearful that day will be!
When the man to be judged
Rises from ashes
Therefore, spare him, oh God!
Sweet Lord Jesus!
Grant them eternal rest. Amen
After the Last Gospel the priest and his ministers go to the catafalque—a pseudo-coffin made to recall the souls of purgatory present at Mass who require prayers of aid. The priest sprinkles it with holy water and incenses it whilst saying the Pater noster. The great Libera Nos is sung. At the end there are a few short prayers. Here is one such instance from Rome:
Libera nos, Domine, de morte aeterna, in die illa tremenda: * Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra: * Dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem.—Libera nos from the absolution
Deliver me, O Lord, from death eternal in that awful day. * When the heavens and the earth shall be moved: * When Thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.—translation of above
