Category Archives: Spirituality

Quick Note on Sarum Prime

I just got done glancing through the ordering for singing Prime in the Sarum rite.

Now I don’t claim to be an expert or anything, but I think it’s fair to say that I do have a certain familiarity with the liturgical year as observed in Medieval England. As remarked n this site before, there’s always been discussion among Anglo-Catholics concerning the truth of Cranmer’s allegations on the complexity of the Sarum system to the detriment of the Gospel. Let me just say that this morning, I’m on Cranmer’s side…

There are no less than 20 different melodies for the singing of the Prime hymn (with 4 additional variants in the doxologies). The directions for use tend to look like this:

Daily within the Octave and on the Octave Day of the Assumption and of the Nativity of S. Mary when the service is of the same Octave ; and on every Commemoration of S. Mary through the whole year, except from the Octave of the Epiphany until the Purification, this melody is sung.

Looking at this as a liturgist and a programmer considering how to place this rubric within a rule-based machine-comprehensible system, the heart quails…

The Scotist, CWOB, and the Eschaton

The Scotist has re-emerged (presumably following the end of the semester…) with some posts, notably one circling back to a previous post on Communion Without Baptism (CWOB). Here he mentions some and engages other issues that I’ve taken with his position but, in effect, states that his argument still stands. So—here are a few thoughts back at him.

I’ll start with his earlier post first.

Regarding section I

Citing some words by Christopher he begins by questioning the necessity of Baptism:

Someone might say, quite correctly it seems to me,

it is by the Font that we are visibly, explicitly, personally made and recognized as members of Christ’s Body,

and that truth concerns what God has ordained; being part of Christ’s body requires being baptized with water. But God is also quite free to include whomever he pleases in the Church without using Baptism as a means. To deny this would be to deny that God could have done otherwise than institute the sacrament of Baptism as a condition for membership in the Church; to accept this is to admit God may operate by his absolute power to attain ends by means apart from those he has revealed to us as means. I am not sure God is obliged to divulge all his means to us.

I would agree with the Scotist that God is not constrained by Baptism—he may bestow his grace upon those as he wills through whatever means he wishes. But the Scotist makes two errors here. First, he has elided the operation of two different channels: there are ordinary channels of grace that God has instituted in the Scriptures and in the life of the Church, then there are the extraordinary channels which God is free to use as he wills.

The ordinary channels are most clearly presented to us in the Great Commission: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age” (Matt 28:19-20). We have been given a mandate to use the channels of Baptism as the means by which individuals are joined to the Church and given grace and the Holy Spirit. To recognize that extraordinary channels exist in no ways denies or invalidates the ordinary channels which the Scotist seems to be suggesting.

Rather, the question should be framed thusly: when it appears that God’s extraordinary grace has led someone to the confession of Christ and to the door of the church and perhaps even to the altar apart from Baptism, should the ordinary means be used or dispensed with? My response, of course, is that the ordinary means (which are the clearest and most express revelation on the matter) are to be followed.

The second error, it seems to me, is that the Scotist speaks rather blithely about the gift of God’s grace incorporating a person into the Church. And here we’ve got a problem. It’s one thing to say that God has acted upon a person to move them or even sanctify them apart from the usual means of grace; it is another to refer to inclusion into the Church. The reception of grace and inclusion into the Church are two different things. For one, the Church is, among other things, a visible institution having a specific incarnate existence where individuals gather locally to express the eschatological and sacramental reality of the Body of Christ. The confusion of these two things opens the door for much confusion later.

Regarding section III

The Scotist fears that we have lost the art of hospitality—and here I agree with him. In fact, I believe that it’s because of this loss that the whole topic of hospitality is so often abused in this discussion. Classical expressions of hospitality, to which the Scotist nods in his mention of Priam’s visit to Achilles and the three visitors coming to Abram and Sarai, were structured around the recognition of reciprocal roles. Being a host was a duty with concrete obligations and expectations. But this was no less true for the guest. Yes, we operate in a debased society with an atrophied sense of hospitality but we still retain a notion of this. It’s one thing for me to invite a stranger or a distant acquaintance into my house. If they proceed, then, to leave the room into which I had invited them so that they could wander upstairs into my bedroom and paw through my dresser drawers, I would be justifiable annoyed. Such a guest would have breached even our vague understanding of the role of the guest.

In a church building and within a liturgy, the priest stands in the role of the steward. He or she acts on behalf of the master of the household and has been entrusted with maintaining good order. Guests may enter and have absolutely no sense of their role as guests. At this point it is the role of the priest to clarify the rules of hospitality. This is best done under the following form: “We invite all baptised Christians to the altar to receive if that is your desire. If you have not been baptized or if you do not wish to receive, you are still welcome to come to the altar; please cross your arms across your chest and I will give you a blessing. If you are interested in receiving baptism or hearing more about it, please speak to one of us on the way out…” In communicating these norms, the priest has discharged the steward’s duty. At this point the obligations of hospitality fall upon the guest. The guest must then decide whether to abide by the hospitality offered by steward or whether to disregard them.

The Scotist writes:

It is rather that there is something wrong with a host who will not take care of the guests, and who will not see that they have what they need. In the case of the unbaptized, we know what they need–Jesus–and we can offer him in the sacrament of the Altar.

The problem here is one of presumption. Yes, the unbaptized guest does need Jesus. But how should the guest be introduced to Jesus? Do we presume to violate our ordinary means and to rush a guest into an act for which they may neither be ready for or desire or do we inform the guest that such things as ordinary means even exist? In the Scotist’s presumption, the guest—apparently—is not informed or given a choice; those who have put themselves in the position of the host have forced their decision upon the guest in the guise of hospitality. Rules are broken at the expense of the guest whether that is the guest’s desire or not.

Regarding section IV

The Scotist’s initial formulation makes no sense:

[A1] (1) If CWOB is forbidden, God is not omnipotent.
(2) God is omnipotent.
Thus, (3) CWOB is permitted.

There is absolutely no connection between the two clauses in A1(1). The Scotist hopes to plug this brigade-sized hole with a number of syllogisms. Here’s the first:

[A2] (1) Suppose CWOB is forbidden.
(2) If CWOB is forbidden, then God cannot save all human beings.
(3) If God is omnipotent, then God can save all human beings.
Thus, (4) God is not omnipotent.

Again—logic fail in step 2. No connection has been made between salvation and reception of the Eucharist. We are then given a third attempt to plug what seems to be a widening rather than closing hole:

[A3] (1) If God can save all humans beings, we are obligated to hope that God does save all human beings.
(2) If we are obligated to hope that God does save all human beings, then CWOB is permitted.
(3) Suppose CWOB is forbidden.
Thus, (4) God cannot save all human beings.

Logic fail from A2(2) is merely continued here. No connection has been made between salvation and reception of the Eucharist. But the hole continues to get wider due to the curious relationship between A3(2-4). Again, there is no direction connection made between the two clauses in A3(2). Yes, I hope that God will save all beings. However, my hope has no clear bearing on the Church’s Eucharistic practice. 3 and 4 remain fundamentally unproven and there is no logical connection drawn between them; they are simply a reversal of the still unconnected A3(2).

Here’s the next attempt to breach what was a gap and is now in danger of becoming a yawning chasm:

[A4](1)If the church is permitted to hope that all humans are saved, then it is permitted to act on the hope that all humans are saved.
(2)The church is permitted to hope that all humans are saved.
Thus, (3) the church is permitted to act on the hope that all humans are saved.

The two clauses in A4(1) do not cohere. Hope of a future situation does not necessarily grant permission to act a certain way now. My future hope is that the lion will lay down with the lamb. If I put my lamb next to a lion now, the lion will receive a tasty dinner and I’ll be out one lamb. Hoping that all will be saved in the future does not give me the right to act as if they are now. And, furthermore, we continue to compound the initial logic fail: No connection has been made between salvation and reception of the Eucharist.

Eucharist and the Eschaton

At this point, I’m going to make a preemptive move. If I recall correctly, the Scotist in posts prior to these had pinned his universalist hopes upon an interpretation of Isa 25:6-9. This passage from what’s known as Isaiah’s Apocalypse gives a beautiful image of communion with God, a literal feasting with the Lord. However, the argument that the Scotist attempts to derive from it is, according to my understanding, exegetically untenable. The chief problem is that Scotist has been deceived by his English-language Bible.

Here’s Isa 25:6 from the NRSV: “Isaiah 25:6 On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.” It’s easy enough to read here “all people” rather than “all peoples” and to read a universalism of sorts into it. To do so is to mistake the meaning of the text. The word rendered “peoples” by the NRSV really is a plural collective noun that refers to multiple national, linguistic, ethnic, or cultural groupings of people all coming together; it does not mean all individuals. The Hebrew word is ‘am and is accurately rendered in the Septuagint as ethneis and the Vulgate as populis. “Nations” might be a less easily mistaken English synonym but contains a governmental notion that the Hebrew word lacks.

We further note that Isaiah’s text is figural, not literal, and as such is subject to the rules for figural interpretation. Augustine laid down the principles in De Doct Chr 3.10-29 that nothing is taught in figures which is not taught plainly elsewhere in Scripture. This image participates in the broader Zion theology taught in Deutero-Isaiah and most specifically in the passage that we use in Morning Prayer as the Third Song of Isaiah (Surge Illuminare) from Isaiah 60. The New Testament picks this up in a host of ways, most specifically in Rev 20-1 where the image of the Bride of the Lamb, the holy Jerusalem, i.e., the Church uses the very language of Isa 60 at the beginning of chapter 21. Too, Matt 8 presents a clear teaching deriving from it when Jesus speaks to the crowds concerning the centurion:

Matthew 8:10-12 When Jesus heard him, he marveled, and said to those who followed him, “Truly, I say to you, not even in Israel have I found such faith. 11 I tell you, many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, 12 while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness; there men will weep and gnash their teeth.”

Acts and Paul interpret the Isaiah texts to mean that God’s plan of salvation extends to the Gentiles. They too may be baptized and be incorporated in the Church where they will dine with the Lord and the patriarchs. So, using Isa 25:6-10 to argue for CWOB looks to me like a non-starter.

In short, Scotist, you still have quite a bit of work to do to make a compelling case. The biggest is to create a credible connection between reception of the Eucharist and salvation which you assume and elide but never demonstrate. As you formulate such an argument, please remember to keep in mind a special group: those people who the Church has always recognized as partakers of the Church and of the Church’s salvation who never received the Church’s baptism—the martyred catechumens. The Church teaches that while they never received the Church’s rites, nevertheless they still died as Christians through the Baptism of Blood—and they never received the Eucharist, thus making it harder to argue that the Eucharist, rather than Baptism, is the sacrament of salvation…

RBOC: Early Summer Edition

The post on infallibility has been started but is delayed. I’m digging through the Roman Catechism at this point and engaging it. Is there anything comparable on the Orthodox side?
A rather large post on Changeable Elements in the Daily Office got lost prior to posting. Grr! Perhaps it’ll be better next time around by benefit of clearer expression.
I received a very helpful email today from Donald Schell containing papers written by Rick Fabian and Fr. Schell concerning CWOB. As I told him, I’m really not interested in torching straw men; I’d like to engage the best theological case out there for CWOB in order to present the soundest possible response from a catholic position.
Early tomorrow morning in lieu of writing posts or addresses, I’ll be running the nastiest 10K in the Baltimore region, the Dreaded Druid Hills 10K. It’ll be great fun!
The Diocese of Kentucky is holding its electing convention tomorrow for its next bishop. If you look over the ballot you’ll see at least one very familiar name from this corner of the blogosphere. Let us then pray for attentive listening to the Spirit as the diocese gathers to choose its next leader:

O God, who didst lead thy holy apostles to ordain ministers
in every place: Grant that thy Church, under the guidance of
the Holy Spirit, may choose suitable persons for the ministry
of Word and Sacrament, and may uphold them in their work
for the extension of thy kingdom; through him who is the
Shepherd and Bishop of our souls, Jesus Christ our Lord,
who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one
God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Communion w/o Baptism Address at SCP Conference

The official announcement has come out so I’ll confirm it here…

My friends at the Society of Catholic Priests have asked if I would be willing to speak at the Second Annual Conference of the Society on addressing the whole Communion without Baptism debate from a catholic perspective. While I have written a bit on the subject at the Episcopal Cafe, I will go beyond what I wrote there and will fundamentally maintain that the grounds on which the debate is currently framed (inclusion vs. exclusion) represent a fundamental mischaracterization and misunderstanding of our sacramental imagination. As a result, when we even try to uphold a catholic position on these grounds, we’ve already started in the wrong place and conceded to a flawed description of the sacramental system.

A Blessed Feast of St Bede To All!

Yesterday’s First Vespers started the Feast of St Bede, patron of the breviary and my very favorite Anglo-Saxon monastic saint.

And my apologies to those who celebrated the First Vespers of St Bede at the breviary yesterday; duties at home kept me from checking the page until late last night when I discovered to my chagrin that I neglected to add the Proper readings to the Year 2 lectionary… Then this morning I discovered that the contemplative shellfish had returned; the hymn mentions the soul of the monastic saint resting in the “clam of quiet love”. Richard had mentioned this and I’d fixed it before but apparently I hadn’t changed it in the master—as has now been done…

In any case, a blessed feast to all!

Initial Breviary Stats

Looking Back

When I set up the page code for the St Bede’s Breviary, I decided that it was important to track general—not individual—usage information. Thus, one of the tables gathers style, kalendar, and rite selections. Again—I don’t capture any user or computer data and am using this only to get a sense of what features are being used to better accommodate those who choose to use it.

I tapped into the table the other day and pulled down data that has been accumulating since December. Because I’m not tracking individual data, I can’t pull out the many times I’ve accessed it to test out various features. Too, due to the way the table is populated, there are some situations where data is not returned and blank fields are entered. I’ve not messed with these resulting in a margin of error equal to the blanks. That having been said, here are the breakdowns for various categories for the 6,376 visits logged:

Despite my preference for Rite I, breviary users are evenly split between Rites I and II. I’m pleased to see this as it indicates to my mind that advocates of both rites are well represented here.

I found at least two items in this data set of interest. First, the data seems to reflect my own difficulties. In trying to fit the offices into a full life with children, I find I’m more regular with Morning Prayer than Evening. As over half of all offices prayed are Morning Prayer and Evening is roughly half of Morning, it seems I’m not alone… :-) Second, I note that the Little Offices (Noon Prayer and Compline) share an equal though low percentage (7%). I don’t know if this means that those who do Noon Prayer are also those who do Compline but it’s a likely conclusion. At the end of the day it seems clear that the two principal offices—Morning and Evening—are indeed what people are coming to the site to pray.

This slide indicates that the breviary is serving its primary function. I specifically coded the breviary for flexibility—I wanted Anglicans of all stripes to be able to find a means of praying the office that fit their spirituality best and I consider this data set to be a vindication of that decision.

This data set indicates an almost filibuster proof preference for the BCP kalendar.

Going Forward

Ever since it’s been up the Breviary has had the tag “Beta test” which is entirely necessay. I’m trying to move it out of beta status though. There’ll be several sets of changes required to make that happen and given my schedule it won’t be complete anytime soon. However, I do have some concrete plans for next steps. These include:

finally getting around to implementing the BCP rubrics on the placement of the gospel readings—i.e., morning in Year 2 (thanks for the reminder, Bill)
inserting NRSV readings into Rite II
re-doing the guts in ways that (hopefully) no one will notice on the client-side but will streamline the server-side and under-the-hood functionality
- chiefly this means moving from a table-based daily calculation system to a rule-based system
- consolidating kalendar tables which will enable me to roll out the other kalendars that I’ve had on ice for a while
fixing innumerable design issues and irritants
providing music for the hymns (square-notation at first, modern notation perhaps later based on some promised assistance, sound files are but a hopeful dream at this point)
integrating the breviary into a more coherent web presence

I can say that one major undertaking on the horizon after these are incorporated includes provisions for sung offices. No ETA on that, however.

As always, I’m open to your suggestions and corrections. On that note, let me conclude with a big thank you to Richard and Ron, my faithful entirely voluntary proofreaders who mercilessly call to my attention every error they see in Rites I and II respectively. Thank you for your assistance and persistence!!

On Eves, Vigils, and First Vespers, II

On the Value of First Vespers

Having reviewed a bit of the pre-Reformation and pre-conciliar practice regarding First Vespers Offices, we move to the practical question of how to define and utilize a First Vespers within the prayer-book tradition.

The first question to be tackled, of course, is: who cares? And indeed, the ’79 BCP itself seems to be raising that question. To sketch briefly, the 1662 BCP allowed First Vespers, the American 1928 BCP recommend First Vespers, while the 1979 BCP permits and appoints them but then turns around and relegates them to a back-shelf.

Let me explain that a bit…

Going by strictly BCP materials, there are only two items at Evening Prayer that indicate the liturgical observance: the Collect and the Lessons. Since 1662, using the Collect of a Sunday or Feast on the evening before has been approved. The American 1928 goes a step farther and provides proper Lessons for Eves in the Fixed Holy Days table (pp. xliv-v). The American 1979 provides Eves for a few Feasts in its own table of Holy Days (pp. 996-1000) but places most of them after the table itself in a lump titled “Eves of Apostles & Evangelists”. Comparing the ’79 to the ’28 there is a clear minimization of proper Lessons for Eves and the logic behind this is probably correctly captured in Hatchett’s discussion of the Daily Office Lectionary rubrics:

One of the frequent criticisms of earlier lectionaries in the Prayer Book was that sequential readings were often interrupted by proper lections for saints’ days and their eves, lections which contributed little or nothing to the congregation’s knowledge of the saint being commemorated or of sainthood in general. The reading of John 11, the story of the raising of Lazarus, for example, was frequently interrupted by lessons for the feast day (and/or eve) of Saint Matthias; none of these lections mentioned Matthias. In the 1979 Book, a general permission is given, when a major feast interrupts the sequence of readings, to lengthen, combine, or omit some of the appointed readings in order to secure continuity or avoid repetition. (Hatchett, CotAPB, 592)

Or, to restate more simply, the Daily Office Lectionary should be as continuous as possible for it to achieve its catechetical function.

While I agree with the premise as restated above, I disagree with Hatchett and am disappointed in how the ’79 Lectionary has changed to make these charges more credible.

First, let’s consider the catechetical aspect. We must recognize that when we discuss the liturgy in general and the Office in particular, we’re never dealing with just one “goal”; instead, we’re operating within an economy of catechetical goods—some of which come into conflict with each other. I would identify some of the catechetical goods from daily recitation of the Offices as:

An increasing awareness of the presentation of the Gospel through the patterns of the liturgical year
An awareness of the Communion of the Saints through liturgical celebration of those who intercede on our behalf
Saturation in the Scriptures through yearly repetition
Saturation in the Psalter through monthly repetition
Formation into key evangelical principles in the daily repetition of the Gospel Canticles
Formation into key interpretive principles with twice-daily repetition of the Apostles’ Creed

Hatchett is identifying a conflict between two of these goods: repetition of the Scriptures and acknowledgment of the saints. There are three problems, however, with the way that he constructs this.

The first is the nature of the conflict. I don’t see this as being a conflict between the Scriptures and saints. Rather, we are dealing with two different means of encountering the Scriptures. All of the feasts that have readings appointed for First Vespers are either Principal Feasts, Feasts of our Lord, or Major Feasts—all of which are Scriptural in nature. All of these people and events celebrated are specifically called out in Scripture. Thus, I think that Hatchett is setting up a false dichotomy.

The second is scope. Yes, the lessons for St Matthias will impede part of John 11—-in some years. But not others. Hatchett’s criticism makes sense if we are going to go through the lectionary cycle once. But if it is to be repeated year after year, then this charge does not make sense. Christian formation is a process measured best in decades. In a similar fashion, if I miss the Daily Office for an entire day, I regret not having said those psalms but have confidence that I’ll get them the next month. Perhaps that’s lackadaisical, but I’ve found that my spiritual health is greatly improved when I balance scrupulosity with a long-view approach to my holy habits.

The third is that, when Hatchett mentions “avoid[ing] repetition” at the end of the passage, he refers to a problem of the ’79 BCP’s own making. Repetition for Holy Days is not a credible charge when the American ’28 lectionary is concerned; each Holy Day has its own distinct readings for the Eve and the Day. Six readings with no overlap in the table. Look at the ’79, though. There is no overlap in what is presented in the table, but all Eves of Apostles and Evangelists are grouped together with two readings provided for them all. Now there’s repetition!

Not only that, but due to this way of proceeding, feasts not in the ’28 table (and even some that are) are now Eve-less: St Joseph, Independence Day, St Mary Magdalene, St Mary the Virgin (!!), St Michael and All Angles (!!), St James of Jerusalem, and Thanksgiving Day. Yes, we can stretch the definition of “Apostle & Evangelist” for St Mary Magdalene and St James of Jerusalem, but no reading for the BVM or St Michael?! You’ve got to be kidding me!! Oddly, four readings are presented for Evening Prayer on these days, providing enough readings for a First and Second Vespers but the sets are not specified for use at either.

In other words, in comparison to the ’28 BCP, the ’79 BCP has made a hash of the Eves of Holy Days under the guise of simplification.

I disagree with Hatchett and, presumably, whoever compiled the Daily Office Lectionary tables. There are two ways to celebrate a First Vespers in the Prayer Book tradition: with the Collect alone or with the Collect and Appointed Lessons. My sense is that the first is appropriate for Sundays, the second is appropriate for Principal Feasts and Holy Days. The interruption of the continuous reading of Scripture is unfortunate but it is occasional (31 days sprinkled throughout the year), and is not consistent over years. No Scripture will be permanently impeded due to these occasions.

The benefit is that a First Vespers puts emphasis on those days, those events, those concepts, and those individuals who truly are important as examples, intercessors, and signs of the Christian life. No, Matthias is not mentioned in the readings on his day as Hatchett notes. He’s only mentioned in one pericope of Scripture which is appointed for his Mass. But, like other of the apostles, his significance is in his life and witness. His importance in our faith rests not on how many times he appears in Scripture but that he was a called and consecrated apostle. Indeed, most of us will be far more like him than Peter and Paul, not large in the annals of the church but nonetheless the faithful workers through whom the Gospel also flourishes.

First Vespers play an important role in marking out liturgical time and structuring our year. They need to be observed because of the emphases and counter-point that they give to the liturgical seasons.

Sunday Morning Prayer in Parishes?

I usually receive an email a week or so from a reader or from someone who happened upon the blog concerning proper protocol for the Daily Office. Not infrequently, those who write are in parishes that can no longer financially sustain full-time clergy. As a result, Morning Prayer has once again become a regular Sunday service despite the best intentions of both prayer book and parish. With the unintentional suppression of Morning Prayer with the advent of the ’79 BCP, though, not all of the lay leaders in this situation have a lived tradition to fall back upon, and the clergy who do assist them may not either.

Are there enough readers in this situation or enough interest in this topic to warrant setting up a Morning Prayer Q&A page?

If so, what sort of content would be most helpful to those in this position? What questions need to be answered?

On Eves, Vigils, and First Vespers, (Digression)

Some comments on the last post prompt me to say a little more about the pre- and non-Reformation systems for dealing with kalendars. Let me say right off the bat that this is not an area where I consider myself an expert; I’ll be grateful for additions here from more informed readers.

One of the reasons I start off that way is because of the situation in the time of my main focus. In the early medieval monastic period, there are few clear surviving written records concerning how rules of precedence and such were ordered (observe for a second the number of caveats there: “clear”, “surviving”, “written”!) If you go to the seminal piece on liturgical books in Anglo-Saxon England,* the only text for dealing with such issues is item U: Consuetudinary. When you go to the text itself, Gneuss gives only a brief note:

The ordinal contains instructions concerning the texts and performance of the liturgy of mass and Office, either for the whole church year or for certain parts of it. In the consuetudinary (or customary) such liturgical instructions or ordines are combined with rules relating to the life and customs of a monastic community or a collegiate church. Such ordinals and consuetudinaries may vary considerably, according to the time and place of their composition and use. I have chosen the heading ‘consuetudinary’ because the pertinent Anglo-Saxon (and early Anglo‑Norman) texts whose editions are listed below do not deal exclusively with liturgical matters. As will be seen, all these texts were intended for use in English monasteries and cathedral priories in the tenth and eleventh centuries. No specific Old English term seems to exist; none of the texts is found as a separate volume.

Gneuss throws around a number of terms here that will become technical terms for writers dealing with later periods. The ones I’ll note are ordinals, customary, and consuetudinary. There is no real precision to their use here because, as Gneuss says, the distinctions haven’t evolved yet.

The Ordines Romani are an important factor here. While they don’t receive a category of their own—i.e., we don’t really have “ordinals” proper yet—these were the documents that told you how all of your different books were supposed to fit together. Remember, within the early medieval period we had liturgical books with contents grouped by function: the choir had their book, the cantor had his book, the priest had his book, etc. The ordines provided the structure for how they interrelated. I confess that I don’t know if ordines XX-XXXVIII address precedence issues or not. We do have some surviving continental manuscripts that are collections of ordines (like Cod. Sang. 349) but these are also not ordinals in the future sense.

In any case, Gneuss lists four customaries, two of which may be familiar to readers of these pages, the Concordia Regularis and Aelfric’s “Letter to the Monks at Eynsham” (LME). These texts tend to be instructions that fill out the sparse descriptions of common life in Benedict’s Rule with a more precise detailing of the day, season, and year and add in the extra liturgical services common within a Cluniac inspired monastic system.

As you read through the LME, therefore, you find lists of incipits and when they are supposed to begin and end. On the matter of festal days, Aelfric makes two comments, one in his discussion of the liturgies of the summer period, the other tucked into his discussion of the readings of the Night Office:

55. If the Nativity of John the Baptist should fall on a Sunday, we desire to retain all the readings and the responsaries about John himself. The same [rule applies] for [the feasts of] the Assumption and Nativity of St Mary and the Feast of St Michael: should [any of these] occur on a Sunday, we desire to retain [their liturgies] in full. Again, we do the same for the feast of All Saints and [the feasts] of all the apostles, except those which occur in Advent or [in the period] from Septuagesima to Easter. But as for other feasts not observed by the laity, if they fall on Sunday and have a full history [of their own], let us read about them in the first and third position, and about the Sunday in the second. (LME, 139)

Then later on the Night Office:

73. But on all feasts of the saints, throughout the entire year, we read lives or passions of the saints themselves, or sermons appropriate to the given solemnity, and [we sing] proper responsories, if these are to be had; if not, we sing other appropriate ones and adopt for the third position [readings] from a homily on the gospel as we do always and everywhere. (LME, 147)

Thus, there is very little here about the vexing issue of Vespers, notably because of Aelfric’s focus on the Night Office.

Going back to the issue of liturgical books, there was one other item used in conjunction with the customary and that was the computus/compotus (OE gerim). This is the book that would tell you how to calculate the movable feasts and get into fun topics like lunar epacts, Golden Numbers, and dominical letters. (Gneuss discusses these briefly under item X with Calendars).

So, there were three major items, the ordines, the customary, and the computus that could be used in conjunction to figure out what was done when. The overwhelming sense that I get from reading the customaries, though, is that these tended to be descriptive rather than prescriptive and that, practically, it would boil down to however the community decided to run things.

As things evolved within English liturgy and as we moved more to the sway of the Sarum Rite, there were, in theory, two major texts which are edited together (among other items) in the two volume Use of Sarum, the consuetudinary and the ordinal. Knowing the early medieval background, having two documents makes perfect sense: the consuetudinary discusses the ritual and tells how the various groups of people interact, while the ordinal describes the liturgical orders and what masses and offices are to be said when.

The “old Ordinal” and the succeeding “new Ordinal” didn’t answer all of the possible questions so in the late Sarum period we get documents like the Crede Michi that address controverted questions. These led one Clement Maydeston in the early 1450’s to create a master document called the Ordinale Sarum sive Directorium Sacerdotum that serves to solve these issues once and for all. (This was edited in two volumes for the Henry Bradshaw Society, vol. 20 and vol. 22.)

If you do the math, there are 35 ways that the liturgical year can be arranged based on the possibilities for the date of Easter and when Sundays fall. Accordingly, Maydeston laid out those 35 options from the period between the Sunday following the Octave of Epiphany through the first few Sundays after Trinity. These were then labeled according to the dominical letter A through G, then the five possible options for each of these were laid out (e.g., primum A, secundum A, tercium A, etc.). Once the “Easter affected” portions of the year had been dealt with, the rest of the year was gathered into a sixth section (e.g., sextum A).

Here’s a sample for Jan 19th through the 22nd for primum A:

Thursday is of St Wulstan, bishop and confessor; nine lessons are read from the Common of Saints. The Little Chapter starts: “Behold a priest…” At First Vespers and the Night Office there are memorials of the BVM. Second Vespers is of Sts Fabian and Sebastian. Little Chapter starts: “The souls of the righteous…” and there are memorials of St Wulstan and the BVM.

Friday is of the martyrs Sts Fabian and Sebastian; nine lessons are read at the Night Office with no exposition of the Gospel of the Day and there is a memorial of the BVM. The Second Vespers is of St Agnes, virgin. The Little Chapter starts: “I will confess…”, and memorials are made of Sts Fabian and Sebastian and the BVM.

etc. . . .

Thus, it identifies First Vespers (primas vesperas) and Second (Secunde vespere) and lets you know what to do in each case.

Parts of this tool, then, were cut up and inserted into the Sarum Breviary as the pica or directions on what to do.

Considering the level of detail to which the Directorium descends, Anglo-Catholics through the ages have wondered if Archbishop Cranmer had not exaggerated the difficulties facing clergy in understanding how to say their breviary. All they had to do was flip to the right section of the Directorium and they could tell what was to be done.

I’m not even going to touch that one…

Furthermore, the whole issue of precedence of Vespers has, in modern times, been reduced to a chart that offers a comparison of what is done when. Here’s one from the Marquis of Bute’s English edition of the Tridentine Breviary:

As long as you know the rankings of the various days, you can figure out what you’re supposed to be celebrating. It makes sense, but isn’t an intuitive process until you’ve used it for a little while.

So, these are some of the items referred to in the previous post that give more information on the pre- and non-Reformation ways of reckoning the Vespers issues. Back to the American 1979 BCP in the next post.

* Helmut Gneuss, “Liturgical Books in Anglo-Saxon England and their Old English terminology,” pages 91-141 in Learning and literature in Anglo-Saxon England : studies presented to Peter Clemoes on the occasion of his sixty-fifth birthday, edited by Michael Lapidge and Helmut Gneuss (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1985)

On Eves, Vigils, and First Vespers, I

I frequently mention various liturgical things in passing and, as a correspondent has noted, it never hurts to stop and define these every once in a while. A classic case is the term “First Vesper.” So, with that in mind, here are some definitions, explanations, and applications concerning the “First Vesper” and how it both appears in and impacts liturgies in the ’79 BCP.

Some Background

The Western Church has tended to sort days into one of two categories: feasts days and regular days (aka ferial days or simply ferias [Yes, that’s not a correct Latin plural—deal with it.]). A feria is reckoned the same way a secular day is; it starts and ends at midnight. Speaking litgurically according to the old canonical hours, therefore, ferias begin with Matins at 3:30 AM or so and end with the conclusion of Compline at around 8:30 PM. Feast days work on a slightly different axis.

Following Jewish tradition and therefore the practice of the first generations of Christians, feast days begin at sundown on the day prior to the feast and end at sundown on the day of the feast. However, sundown is easier said than scheduled. As a result, there’s a de facto “liturgical sundown.” On regular feasts—Simple feasts to use the technical term—the feast began at the Little Chapter during Vespers then would run through the end of the None Office the next day. Thus, a Simple feast is actually a little bit shorter than a full day; if back-to-back Simple feasts show up in the kalendar, it actually creates a little gap.

Example: on February 13th in 1486, the Feast of St Valentine started at Vespers with the Little Chapter. February 14th continued the feast as it ran through Compline, Matins, Lauds, and the Little Hours up to None. At that point, the feast of St Valentine ended. Vespers began as the Vespers for Tuesday, following the psalms appointed for Tuesday. After the opening and the psalms, though, the feast of Sts. Faustinus and Jovita starts and continues through the rest of the 14th and the 15th as far as None.

This looks confusing, but makes perfect sense if you recall one basic principle: the psalms for Lauds and the Little Hours were mostly static; to cover all of the psalms in a week (RB 18.22-25), 1-108 were covered at Matins and 109-147 were covered at Vespers (roughly). If proper psalms kept being appointed for feasts there’s no way they’d make it through the last third of the psalter!

Not all feasts are equal, though; not all feasts are Simple. The more important feasts were referred to as Doubles, presumably because at some point in the Early Church a regular Office of the day was said, then an additional Office was said for the saint or feast. By the time we have extant manuscripts and descriptions of Offices, though, this was not the case. Instead, a Double were lengthened according to their importance. A Double began at the beginning of Vespers on the Day before, continued through Compline into the feast day proper and did not end after None but continued on through a second Vespers and a second Compline. Thus, a Double had two Vespers, one on the evening before the feast and one on the feast itself. (It had two Complines as well, but Vespers is a much larger, more involved, and more variable Office than Compline, so a second Compline has little practical effect on the liturgy’s celebration.

In theory, you might expect that most feasts would be Simples and that the more important feasts would be Doubles. And perhaps that how it was at one point. By the modern period, however, it was not the case. Looking at the kalendar of Pius Xth from 1920, we see that of the 296 fixed festal days of the year, 256 were Doubles of some sort; only 27 were Simples. (And it may be alleged that the psalm issue had something to do with it—the festal psalm sequence used for Vespers on Doubles tended to be a bit shorter than the ferial sequences; messing with the psalms was sometimes the intention!)

So to recap, in the West through the reforms of Pius X there were three kinds of days reckoned differently in the church:

ferial days ran from midnight to midnight, starting at Matins and running to the end of Compline
Simple feasts ran from evening to evening in a shorter sense, starting from the Little Chapter at Vespers and running until the end of the None Office
Double feasts ran from evening to the next night, starting at the beginning of Vespers the evening before and running through Compline on the day of the feast

This, then, is the origin of “First Vespers.” It designates the Vespers Office that begins a Double feast to differentiate it from Vespers on the next day. Furthermore, the liturgies of these days were often different, usually having different antiphons for the psalm and Gospel canticle and having different hymns.

The thing I need to point out now, though, is the implications of having a First Vespers.

In the example under Simples, I demonstrated how the system worked when two Simples were back to back. There was no problem since one Simple ended before the next Simple began and the ferial Office filled in the slack. Consider the Double, however—the longer day means that overlap between one feast and another is entirely possible. And if you have 296 of them, well, you do the math… And then you add in all of the Sundays which are semidoubles at the least…

Suddenly, figuring out which Vespers goes with which day and should be celebrated in which way becomes a lot more difficult.

As a result, the classification of Double feasts began quite an involved matter and there grew a range—from Semidouble to Double to Greater Double to Double of the Second Class and Double of the First Class—in order to properly arrange the feasts so that everything received its due ceremony. Sets of tables clarify the relation between them so that you can calculate what happens if two feasts fall on top of one another (quite common when you suddenly merge 52 Semidouble or greater Sundays into the pre-existing 296 Doubles) or, as happened almost daily, when adjudication had to be made between whether or how you ought to celebrate two feasts at the same time within one Vespers Office.

Example: Consider March 6th. The kalendar tells us that it is the feast of Perpetua and Felicity. This feast is a Double. So, Vespers on the 5th (and the 5th is a ferial day) is the First Vespers of the Perpetua and Felicity. The feast continues onto the 6th. However, March 7th is the feast of Thomas Aquinas—also a Double—which means that its First Vespers is abut to concur with the Second Vespers of the Perpetua and Felicity. What do you do? There are three options: division, commemoration, or suppression. In this case, since both feasts are Doubles the answer according to Tridentine rules is division: it’s the Second Vespers of Perpetua and Felicity from the opening and through the psalms until the Little Chapter. At that point (liturgical sundown), it becomes the First Vespers of Thomas Aquinas. Right after the collect of Thomas, though, is included a commemoration of Perpetua and Felicity which is created by bundling the Magnificat antiphon with the versicle which would have followed their hymn and concluding it with their collect.

Don’t ask what happens if either of these days turns out to be a Sunday, because then things start getting complicated…

It’s precisely these sorts of issues that led reformers from at least the time of Wyclif to condemn what had happened to the Offices, charging that clergy had to spend far more time figuring out their breviaries than preaching the Gospel. We can see many things that Cranmer did to simplify the Offices (following in the footsteps of other reformers frequently) but this is one of the most invisible to modern Anglicans. In simplifying the kalendar he, with one stroke, removed one of the major objections to the Offices as they had been practiced at that time. By removing all antiphons and hymns, the liturgical elements to be calculated dropped dramatically; only the collects were proper to feasts. The Office became simple again—no calculations required (certainly in comparison to what it had been). However, the Office also lost the richness and depth that it had and the connections between Mass and Offices were reduced to a single point, the collect.

Where we are now and what this means for our BCP will come in another post.

The St. Bede Blog

Formerly haligweorc; Liturgical Spirituality for the Episcopal Church