Dominica in albis

It's Divine Mercy Sunday, or Low Sunday, or the Sunday after Easter, whatever you want to call it. It is, amongst other things, a day when we talk about faith and a day when we talk about the peace that our Lord Christ brings us as a gift. The Bible readings are still somewhat historical. We heard about "Doubting Thomas" who wanted to put his finger in Christ's wounds before he was convinced that Jesus had risen and visited the disciples after the resurrection. And, we heard how Jesus kept wishing his followers peace. It was always the first thing out of the risen Christ's mouth when he appeared to his followers, perhaps as a reassurance of forgiveness for the things they did--or did not do--during the events surrounding the crucifixion: the Divine Mercy. I find that a good lesson for today. If I want to be Christ-like in my daily life, then I need to forgive any in my life who may have wronged me (or who I may think have wronged me), and wish for them peace.

It's still a festive season, and St. Stephen's was still in full, resplendant color from all the beautiful spring flowers of Easter last Sunday. After Lauds, the organist played a very fine prelude....something modern, but, unfortunately, not credited in the program.

Hymns today included Llanfair (Hail the day that sees him rise) for the processional, O fili et filiae (That night the apostles met in fear) for the offertory, a responsorial hymn with the organist's "Those who eat your flesh" antiphon for communion marching music, and Festival Canticle for the recessional. For the Mass setting, they did a plainsong Kyrie with choral extensions by Hans Leo Hassler from Missa Secunda, the Proulx A Community Mass Gloria, the organist's Alleluia, Hughes Mass of the Divine Word during the consecration, and the Agnus Dei from Isele's Holy Cross Mass.

The choir sang "This Joyful Eastertide" by Charles Wood as a post-communion motet.

Monsignor celebrated and preached the homily. He was surprisingly wound up today, and I was amused that he at one point said he wasn't going to get into a particular topic because he didn't want to go over on time for the homily, after which he spoke for another eight minutes! It was an interesting homily, though, because he talked about the value of community. So many people think they can worship alone, or read the Bible alone, or read their prayer book or breviary alone, as a substitute for going to Mass, yet, as Monsignor pointed out, we as humans need community, and we need corporate worship to help reinforce for us our religious beliefs and goals. And, it is in and as a community that we can accomplish ever so much more than we could do alone. He also used this as an educational opportunity to reinforce the differences between Protestant and Catholic belief, where many Protestants believe solely in Scripture, whereas the Catholic church believes and teaches both from Scripture and sacred tradition. Once again, it is "community" that helps us determine sacred tradition and how to collectively interpret holy Scripture.

Laurent begged off from Mass this morning, claiming that he had to do laundry, and he could only get it done if he did it in the morning; he'd go to church at 5:30, he said. Well, I don't think Laurent did his laundry. I called and texted him several times before and after Mass, and he didn't answer. I think he slept in this morning! I wonder if he's going to be wearing dirty clothes all this week? And, I'll lay you odds that he didn't go to Mass tonight. LOL

Easter aftermath

Earlier today, Laurent and I went to Mass at St. Stephen's. Robert was supposed to have joined us, but he's a heathen and he punted, notifying us via email that he was going to stay in bed.

We walked into the church and were handed 32-page booklets; I was thinking it was going to be an unexpectedly long service like the vigil last night (recalling St. Paul's 40-page booklet), but on closer inspection, they printed up a booklet that they used for the entire Triduum, so there were four services in the booklet, and this morning's Mass was only six pages.

The choir was singing Lauds (they do Lauds every Sunday before the 11 o'clock, but I always try to avoid it) when we walked in, and it was challenging trying to find a place to sit with enough space for two. There was a string ensemble that supplemented the singing; it looked like a string quartet and a French horn, but I never could get a good look to see what they had. The ensemble and organist played preludes and postludes, but I didn't recognize the music and they weren't credited in the program.

After the plainsong introit, the service opened with Easter Hymn as the processional. Following the offertory anthem ("Since by Man Came Death" from Messiah), they sang Festival Canticle. The recessional hymn was Hymn to Joy. The choir sang "Christians, praise the paschal victim" to chant Mode I as the sequence and Vidi aquam egredientem during the aspersing of the congregation. During communion, they sang a composition by the organist/choirmaster called "Regina Coeli: Concertato" and then the cantoress sang "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" from Messiah.

The Mass setting was a big mix. The Kyrie, sung by the choir, was from Palestrina's Missa Aeterna Christi Munera. The Gloria came from Modal Mass by Calvert Schenk, and the choir rang handbells during the repetitions of the antiphon. The Gospel Alleluia was by the organist/choirmaster. The Sanctus, Benedictus, Memorial Acclamation, and Great Amen were from Hughes' Mass of the Divine Word. The Agnus Dei was from Gregorian Mass XVIII, with a choral extension at the end that was uncredited, but that sounded very Palestrinaesque.

Fr. Siriani celebrated and preached, but there were so many screaming babies and children in the congregation that I couldn't hear a thing he said. You know, mothers, I know that children make noise. That's part of having kids in church. But when your child has been screaming at the top of his/her lungs for five minutes straight, that's a sign that you should take the child outside until he/she quiets down. Meanwhile, they really need a crying room at this parish.

It was a fun Mass (it didn't even last an hour and a half) and the congregation seemed in a good mood. It was standing room only, but the standees were all accommodated in the narthex; in past years here, there were so many they were standing against the walls by the side aisles. All of the resident clergy were out on the sidewalk after Mass to greet people.

Pascal blessings

Alleluia, happy Easter!

I'm back from the nearly three hour-long Easter Vigil and solemn pontifical Mass at St. Paul's K Street. I showed up 25 minutes before the service and the nave was completely full. Fortunately, I espied Matt sitting on the back row, so I squeezed into his pew and sat with him. The service booklet is 40 pages long! It was a long service, but what a wonderful and inspirational time! The service is divided into four segments: new fire, lessons, Christian initiation, and Eucharist.

New Fire

They had a retired bishop as the guest celebrant. He kindled the new fire, and carved and lit the new paschal candle. The curate chanted the full Exultet once the candle had been processed to the chancel. Everyone in the congregation had a candle, lit from the passing paschal candle.

Lessons

Lessons and psalms were:

Genesis 1:1–2:2, The Creation
Psalm 33: 8–11, chant by Edwin G. Monk

Genesis 22:1–18, Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac
Psalm 33:13–14, 20–21, chant by Edward Elgar

Exodus 14:10–15:1, Israel's deliverance at the Red Sea
Canticle Cantemus Dominus, Tone VIII with verses by Francis Burgess

Isaiah 55:1–11, Salvation offered freely to all
Psalm 42:2–3, 6–7, chant by H. Walford Davies

Ezekiel 37:1–14, Valley of dry bones
Psalm 30:1, 3, 12–13, chant by Edward John Hopkins

As we sat in the dark, it was nice to be able to concentrate on the readings and listen to the choir with nothing else to distract us. I was amused, though, that a third of the service booklet was useless, since it was too dark to follow along with the readings or the psalms. The music tonight, and especially in this section, was wonderfully tight and well-rehearsed. The Psalm 42 setting in particular was wonderful; the only word I can think of to describe it is that it was positively transcendent. At the end of this section, as the congregation's candles were being relit in preparation for the baptisms, the choir sang Palestrina's Sicut cervus.

Initiation

They had a young woman to baptize and about a dozen to confirm. They did a formal procession (down the center aisle and around the nave) to the font in the narthex as the full Litany of Saints was chanted. On the return of the procession to the chancel, the choir sang Asperges me, Domine, hyssopo to Mode VII as the bishop aspersed the congregation.

Eucharist

This section began with the Easter Greeting, then John turned on the organ and launched a raucous and festal fanfare as a number of designated bell ringers scattered throughout the congregation rang handbells. After a brief break to allow the bishop to intone the Gloria, the singing and bell ringing continued. They used the congregational participatory Willan Missa de Santa Maria Magdalena as the Mass setting. The psalm, sung by the congregation, was set to Tonus Peregrinus. After the Gospel, they sang the Easter Acclamations in a setting by Joseph Noyon and arranged by Gerre Hancock. It's a fun piece, but the tessatura is stratospherically high, and they expected us all to have high Gs! I made it through the first two repetitions, but I didn't have the G anymore for the third.

The rector had a very nice sermon about the four elements—fire, water, earth, air—and how they were all present in tonight's Mass.

The offertory anthem was Regina coeli by Robert White (ca. 1530–1574), followed by a congregational hymn, Straf mich nicht. The communion anthem was Exsultate Deo adjutori nostro by Palestrina, followed by improvisions on the upcoming hymn by John, followed by Gaudeamus pariter as a post-communion ablutions hymn.

At the end of the service, the recessional hymn was St. Albinus, and the choirmaster Giles played Langlais's Incantation en jour Saint as a postlude.

Reception

Then, Matt and I went over to the parish hall for wine and heavy hors d'oeuvres, and a chance to chat with a lot of people. I saw a lot of Catholics from St. Stephen's and from the cathedral, although not that many of them came up for the reception. Matt recognized his old choirmaster from Old St. Paul's in Baltimore, and I saw a couple of choirmaster/organists from other churches around the region. I talked for a while with one woman who had come with friends from New York City to hear the service. And, I saw about half a dozen men in clerical collars I didn't know, so I assume they are priests from other parishes.


Matt in the chapel after Mass

Lots to do for tomorrow. Laurent invited himself and his roommates over for Easter dinner, so I'm roasting a leg of lamb as soon as we get home from Mass at St. Stephen's (Laurent and Robert neither wanted to go tonight, so I'm tagging along with them in the morning......I think). I suppose I should go to bed, but I hope everyone has a blessed and holy Easter! And, we give thanks that we aren't evangelicals who have sunrise services that in the morning will be in freezing temperatures!

A sad Maundy Thursday

Last night Laurent had to work a little bit late at the office (in view of today's early office closing for Good Friday), so we scanned the Internet to see who had the latest Maundy Thursday or Holy Thursday services at a church that was easily Metro accessible for us, and we discovered it was St. John's-Lafayette Square, a place we've been many times previously. We called our friend Graham, who's a member of that parish, to tell him we were coming, and it turns out he was slated to be a altar boy last night...and when we saw him at the church, he looked so angelic in his all-white vestments! LOL

Now, I've always known that St. John's is a very "low church" parish, in the mold of old Virginia churches, but I wasn't quite prepared for last night. On top of that, the parish is undergoing a bunch of earth-shattering changes right now, from the resignation of their long-time music director to join the faculty at Virginia Theological Seminary, to their remodeling and updating project that in about a month will close their building and worship space for several months during construction.

Well, I'm used to a packed church on Holy/Maundy Thursday, but they only had about 80 people in the sparsely populated nave, and that was including choir and clergy. The clergy processed in, with none of them wearing copes or chasubles (that's not a surprise at St. John's), and with the three of them wearing unmatched stoles, with one in reddish violet, one in red, and one in a burgundy that matched the altar frontal. The procession was led in by a crucifer carrying a processional cross veiled in black; the cross is only supposed to be veiled in black on Good Friday, so that made me cringe.

The liturgy was a very basic low Mass with hymns, or what I'm sure they'd call just "Holy Communion." The traditional footwashing ceremony was absent. The prayer of consecration was so abbreviated and short that if one were to have sneezed, one would have missed the entire consecration. At the end of the service, they did (thankfully) have the Stripping of the Altar, but they only cleared off the altar and retable, and left the other furnishings in the sanctuary. What's more, during that ceremony, they had the congregation standing and singing a hearty hymn, Petra, and between the penultimate and last verses, the organist improvised a loud, festal, key modulation. Then, as filler whilst the clergy finished up, the choir sang an insipid little Taizé chant that kept reminding me of Moonies at the airport. At the end, there was the standard formal dismissal (Go in peace to love and serve the Lord) and the clergy and choir had a formal procession out, behind the black veiled cross. After everyone was out of the sanctuary and much of the congregation had left, someone finally dimmed the lights, but I'm not sure if that was for meditative purposes or just to hurry people out the door. Out in the narthex as we "departed in silence," cheery ushers thanked us for coming and bid us good night.

The music throughout also was rather disappointing. St. John's usually can be counted on for solid, well-known hymns, and they can do good anthems with their small, but good, professional choir. Well, the professional choir sang the noon service, so we had the volunteer parish choir last night. That's not necessarily a problem, but they weren't together, and there was some man who occasionally tried to sing parts who was perpetually off pitch, and it was driving me crazy. And the hymns were unfamiliar and uninspiring, leading to the congregation not singing, and making me feel like I was in a sleepy Catholic church instead of an Episcopal parish that usually sings heartily. The processional hymn was Ubi caritas (Murray) and then during communion they used a Taizé chant of Ubi caritas as little more than filler music. I guess somebody likes Ubi caritas. And somebody likes way too much Taizé music.

The communion Taizé chant pointed out another problem. A 50- or 60-something woman with wild grey and blonde hair came in late during the end of the readings and sat in the pew right behind Laurent and me. She was a little too enthusiastic. During the congregational prayers and responses, she spoke out loudly, much louder than the rather subdued and reverent volume of the congregation as a whole, and she was one of those people who had to pray with "meaning." She sang the hymns louder than anybody else. She was way too excited about passing the peace and acted like she actually wanted to talk to me then before I turned away and she bounded out of her pew to shake hands with people across the aisle (fortunately, St. John's isn't one of those awful parishes where people try to shake hands and/or hug everybody in the church). Then, when we got to this communion Taizé chant, the music in the program happened to have four part harmony (but people at St. John's in the congregation never sing parts), so she took it upon herself to sing the alto line, fishing around for pitches and constantly being painfully flat. I don't know why, but I have this vision in my mind of her driving a Volvo, supporting Hillary Clinton, and working for a non-profit.

There was no sequence hymn, but they did do a sermon hymn between the Gospel and the sermon, Chereponi, a Ghanian folk song that's actually in the hymnal, but I've never heard used at a church service before (same with the processional hymn). One of the priestesses read a cheery little sermonette. For the Mass setting, they only did two things, a responsorial Kyrie from Music for the Lord's Supper by McNeil Robinson that the congregation didn't sing at all, and a Sanctus and Benedictus from David Hurd's New Plainsong Mass. They did a Catholic-style responsorial psalm antiphon "I love the Lord" by James Barrett that the congregation didn't sing with the choir attempting the verses in unison chant and making a huge pause at the asterisks in the verses.

The anthem was "A New Commandment" by Richard Shephard, a contemporary Brit who has had a stint as a visiting professor at Sewanee. This particular piece was very simple and saccharine. I guess should have gone to the noon service with the professional choir (although who ever heard of a noon Maundy Thursday service?), which I gather was the larger of the two services. They sang the same offertory anthem, but the program indicated they did Duruflé's Tantum ergo for communion and the hymn "Now my tongue the mystery telling" (though it doesn't say if they used Pange lingua or Grafton) instead of that nasty Taizé chant.

Alas, I left the church feeling very unreverent and spiritually unfulfilled. They desperately need a liturgist at that parish; even low church parishes need to do things correctly and have an understanding of their tradition. And the music clearly wasn't meeting the needs and interests of their largely older congregation, either, as evidenced by the stoney silence from them during singing opportunities. Perhaps that is why there was practically no one at the service.

Palms today

Thank you, Father Brady!!

This is Palm Sunday, the day the church reads the long, long Passion Gospel in quasi-dramatic form, with all the words assigned to different speakers, and even the congregation getting into the act with fun lines like "Crucify him!" Unfortunately, though, the gospel takes a long time (did I mention it was a long, long gospel?). That, coupled with the added time commitments from the blessing of the palms and the palm procession with everyone singing the traditional hymn, "All Glory Laud and Honor," meant it was 11:40 by the time the gospel was over instead of the usual 11:20-25. :(

But then Fr. Brady came to our rescue, with a record one minute homily! We just love Fr. Brady! And, to think, he's a lawyer, too! LOL

Hymns today included a "Hosanna to the Son of David" antiphon written by the organist/choirmaster for the palm blessings and the asperging of the people, the aforementioned St. Theodulph for the palm procession, Morning Song for the offertory, Jerry Brubaker's "O blessed Savior now behold" for communion, and Wondrous Love for the recessional. The Mass setting was from Hughes' Mass of the Divine Word.

I was excited to hear the choir do a nice anthem during the offertory today. They sang "Solus ad victimam" by 20th century composer Kenneth Leighton, and it was very nice. They also did a beautiful Agnus dei from the Missa in Simplicitate by Jean Langlais, and for post-communion ablutions did Anton Bruckner's "Christus Factus Est" (which has the unfortunate quality of repeating the last line over and over and over and over and over and over again until we begin to despair that the choir will ever stop singing so the priest can finish the Mass).

It's Holy Week now. That can be both good and bad.

Erin go bragh

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

No, I'm not jumping the gun. Monday, the 17th, is in Holy Week (Sunday is Palm Sunday, remember?), and the Vatican's Congregation for Divine Worship and the Sacraments always transfers the feast day when the 17th falls in Holy Week. The last time it happened was around 1940 and it won't happen again until 2160. The U.S. Conference of Bishops sent out a letter saying the feast was transferred to the 14th. Some people have decided to observe it on Saturday the 15th, and that is permissible as well (though I don't think you're supposed to have a two day-long green beer drunk!).

I wore my green today. Did you?

Qui bene cantat bis orat

Your hands, O Lord in days of old
Were strong to heal and save;
To you they went, the blind, the mute,
The sick and those in shame.
And then your touch brought life and health,
In ev'ry troubled friend.
That whole and sick, and weak and strong,
May praise you evermore.

Sometimes I go to church and it becomes obvious to me that Someone knows what is troubling me, knows what is going on in my life right then. Yesterday I slipped into my pew to pray before Mass with a long litany of friends and loved ones in need of prayer—even lit a candle for two of them—and then the organ started playing the opening hymn. Above, I've condensed all the verses of that hymn into one verse, but you can see how so many things in that longer song are right on point.....the sick and those in shame.....ev'ry troubled friend.....weak and strong.....and it reminds us how we all have the comfort of our Lord and Savior to get us through trying times. We aren't the first people to have problems and challenges, and, like those who have gone before us, we will find that things really aren't that bad and we will survive and prosper with the strength, love, and spiritual grace we get from God.

I went to the early service at St. Stephen's, so it was a cantored Mass without choir. The hymns included the aforementioned opening song sung to Forest Green; the offertory was Kingsfold and the recessional was In Babilone. For the communion procession, the cantoress and organist sang a tune (it was supposed to be a congregational responsorial hymn, but you have read my thoughts and experiences on that in previous posts) written by the organist with the antiphon words "Those who eat your flesh and drink your blood live in you and you in them, and you will raise them up on the last day."

The Mass setting was the usual Lenten mix of Gregorian chant and the Mass of the Divine Word. Too bad the choir wasn't there; I saw in the program they at the eleven they were going to be singing Purcell's "Thou Knowest, Lord, the Secrets of Our Hearts" during communion.

In Enarratio in Psalmum, Saint Augustine wrote about singing to God, saying:

Qui enim cantat laudem, non solum laudat, sed etiam hilariter laudat; qui cantat laudem, non solum cantat, sed et amat eum quem cantat.

Now, forgive my rusty Latin, but I think this will translate into something along the lines of "He who truly sings praise, not only praises, but also joyously praises; he who sings praise, not only sings, but also loves the One about whom he is singing." This concept has been condensed to (now often erroneously attributed to St. Augustine) "Qui bene cantat bis orat"—he who sings well prays twice. It's a bit of a mistranslation of Augustine, but prayer and love are often the same thing.

Music is always an important part of the worship experience for me. That point is made all the clearer to me on days such as yesterday, when we pray twice with our singing, or perhaps we love God twice with our singing. My loved ones are still in my prayers, but I feel better knowing that we all have prayed for them in our song and that the grace and love of our Lord is freely there to comfort them and to comfort us all.

Moses on Drugs

MSNBC reports today that Moses was under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs when he talked to the burning bush and when he talked to God to get the Ten Commandments.

That would make the entire basis of Judeo-Christian ethics and law just another drug high.

_________________________

Was Moses high on Mount Sinai?
Study claims he was high when he brought down the Ten Commandments

MSNBC News Services

JERUSALEM - When Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from Mount Sinai, he may have been high on a hallucinogenic plant, according to a new study by an Israeli psychology professor.

Writing in the British journal Time and Mind, Benny Shanon of Jerusalem’s Hebrew University said two plants in the Sinai desert contain the same psychoactive molecules as those found in plants from which the powerful Amazonian hallucinogenic brew ayahuasca is prepared.

The thunder, lightning and blaring of a trumpet which the Book of Exodus says emanated from Mount Sinai could just have been the imaginings of a people in an “altered state of awareness,” Shanon hypothesized.

“In advanced forms of ayahuasca inebriation, the seeing of light is accompanied by profound religious and spiritual feelings,” Shanon wrote.

“On such occasions, one often feels that in seeing the light, one is encountering the ground of all Being ... many identify this power as God.”

Shanon wrote that he was very familiar with the affects of the ayahuasca plant, having “partaken of the ... brew about 160 times in various locales and contexts.”

He said one of the psychoactive plants, harmal, found in the Sinai and elsewhere in the Middle East, has long been regarded by Jews in the region as having magical and curative powers.

Some biblical scholars were unimpressed. Orthodox rabbi Yuval Sherlow told Israel Radio: “The Bible is trying to convey a very profound event. We have to fear not for the fate of the biblical Moses, but for the fate of science.”

Reuters contributed to this report.

Pink Sunday

This is Laetarie Sunday, one of two days in the church's liturgical year when the priests wear pink clothes. Laurent and I went to St. Stephen's this morning, Laurent in a pink Polo and me in a pink tie. The good monsignor was in a pink chasuble with gold orpheries, but the chasuble must have been child-sized, since it was a good foot or more too short for him.

We learned in his homily that monsignor eats an egg sandwich every morning for breakfast.

Hymns today were Restoration (Come, you sinners, poor and needy) for the processional, Duke Street (Take up your cross) for the offertory, "You satisfy the hungry heart" for communion and Wer nur den lieben Gott (If thou but trust in God) for the recessional. The organist had a great deal of fun with the processional and recessional hymns, improvising a lot between verses, and it was wonderfully dark and mysterious. He really is quite skilled at improvisation.

For the Mass setting, they did Howard Hughes' Mass of the Divine Word during the consecration, with Gregorian chant for the Kyrie extended with Palestrina's Missa Aeterna Christi Munera and the choir sang alone for the Agnus Dei from the 16th century John Taverner's Short Mass for Three Voices.

During post-communion ablutions, the choir sang Bach's O Jesu Christ, mein's Lebens Licht.