Brevis Dictata
Father Magiera answers your questions about the Traditional Latin Mass
Newer questions at the top
Please outline the reasons why an image of the Crucified Christ is more suitable than the Risen Christ when the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is celebrated.
Even though this question is not relevant to the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite of Mass per se, this is not the first time I’ve heard it. In Protestant Churches (the possible exceptions are Anglican (Episcopalian) and Lutheran Churches), one usually sees a cross without the corpus, be it on the wall or on their communion table. Corpus is the usual term to describe the effigy of Our Lord fastened to the beams of the cross. NB: Crucifix is the term for a cross with corpus. Cross is the simple term, i.e., without corpus.
There is scant documentation about the liturgical use of either a cross or crucifix on/near/over the altar, prior to the 13th century. There is documentation about a gilded, silver cross placed near the altar at the directive of Pope Leo III (8th and early 9th centuries). Pope Innocent, in the 12th century, directed that a cross be placed on the altar, between two candlesticks. There is also evidence of a cross mounted on the canopy over the altar (altars usually had canopies over them, extending out from the reredos, even into the 20th century) or suspended from the canopy over the altar. Though different countries had different customs, it is probable that the practice of placing a cross on the altar became more and more common in the period spanning the 9th through the 13th centuries. Yet in England, the association of the figure of Christ with the cross was familiar as far back as AD 678. When crosses began to appear on altars, the faithful, were often moved to express their devotion by gilding the cross, gradually using precious metals for the cross itself, and then going so far as to encrust the silver or gold with precious gems. Such practices were also common in the east as evidenced by gilded, jewel encrusted icons.
Gradually, though the practice of using precious metals endured, the figure of Christ (also in precious metal or some other precious material, such as ivory) began to be seen more often. Though gems might still be used on the gold or silver cross beams, they made way for the figure of Christ. Gradually, the use of gems fell away, since the primary Gem, (the figure of) Christ Himself made all other gems unnecessary. The tradition of gold, silver (or plated) altar crucifixes became standard and then required over the centuries. Today, there is still the directive that a crucifix must be placed on or above the altar (usually somewhere in the reredos – the backing of the altar) in the Extraordinary Form and must be either on or near the altar in the Ordinary Form.
Now we can approach the subject of crucifix versus cross. The crucifix depicts the Sacrifice of Christ, i.e., Christ sacrificed Himself, for us, on the cross. The easiest parallel is that the Mass, in addition to the associations with Holy Thursday, the Last Supper and the institution of the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist and the Priesthood, is primarily the re-presentation of the Sacrifice – in an unbloody manner – of Our Lord on Calvary. This is in clear distinction to any Protestant service (whether it resembles the Mass or not) where there is clearly NO sacrifice, because the Real Presence of Our Lord is lacking. The idea or notion of sacrifice or immolation was absolutely repugnant to the Protestant “reformers.” The leaders of the Protestant revolt, foisting their belief on those sometimes forced to follow them, regarded the Mass as idolatrous and the Real Presence a sham. They completely denied the essential, sacrificial element. If there is no semblance of any kind of sacrifice, why should there be the visual representation of one? So, compatible with the erroneous emphasis of only ONE of the elements of the Paschal Mystery, the Resurrection, only the bare cross is used in their services.
Sadly, even some Catholics subscribe to this lame thinking today. In defense of the naked cross, they wrongly trumpet, “My Lord is a Risen Lord.” It’s true, of course, but He would not, could not have risen were it not for the prior Sacrifice. Without the prior Sacrifice, the Resurrection would be meaningless. In some ways, they can not be blamed for this when, in so many Catholic Churches, one might see only vague representations of the Crucifixion. We notice, more and more, particularly in modern churches, large images on the wall. Often, thankfully, there is an appropriate crucifix. At times, however, one might see things like a “crucified” Christ, but without the cross, or twisted, grotesque, almost unidentifiable images of Christ (not in keeping with those traditional images of a severely wounded, tortured, bloody, beaten Christ, mostly found in monasteries or reflecting an Iberian tradition). I have seen “buff” figures of a smiling, obviously living, fit “gym locker-room” Christ standing and holding His Cross and we have all, alas, seen the all too ubiquitous, fully-clothed, resurrected “touchdown” or “diving Jesus.” No wonder some Catholics are confused and no wonder Protestants might not take us seriously.
The Sacrifice of Christ in time, when He was with us, did indeed take place once, for all, and is perpetually all sufficient in redeeming fallen man. Yet, in the Mass, that Sacrifice endures and is re-presented to fallen man every day, every hour, every minute and its efficacy remains, unrestricted by time and spaces until everything will have found its end in God. The Prophet Malachi tells us in Chapter 1, verse 11, “For from the rising of the sun even to the going down, my name is great among the Gentiles, and in every place there is sacrifice, and there is offered to My Name, a clean oblation: for My Name is great among the Gentiles, saith the Lord of hosts.” This is a prophecy about the Mass, the ongoing Sacrifice of Calvary. In this context, anything other than a crucifix makes no sense.
During a high Mass, why exactly do the priest and servers merely recite the Ordinary (Gloria, Credo, etc) and then go sit down, while the choir sings it? Since you have to wait for us to finish anyway, it would seem to make sense that you would also sing it.
First and foremost, we must all realize that, from time immemorial, the liturgical norm for the celebration of Mass has been the Solemn Mass. It is due to the passage of time and multiplication of practicalities and restrictions that the “Sung” Mass, i.e., without deacon and subdeacon, and then subsequently, the “Low” Mass have developed and, for the most part, replaced the Solemn Mass as the norm. Proceeding on that principle, there has always been the directive that the celebrant of the Mass say every bit of text included in the Mass. This means that the celebrant was required to read the Epistle while the subdeacon chanted it. He was required to read the Gospel while the deacon chanted it. It goes without saying, then, that the celebrant was required to read those portions of the proper and the ordinary of the Mass while they were being sung.
To a certain extent, this still happens today. While they are being sung, the celebrant reads the: Introit, Gradual, Alleluia (the tract in Septuagesima and Lent; and the Alleluia during Paschaltide), the Offertory and the Communion; also the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus/Benedictus and Agnus Dei. It was only with the liturgical modifications in the 1962 books that the celebrant was no longer required to read the Epistle and Gospel while they were being sung. The logic is that, since the celebrant has already read the texts, singing them along with the choir would be superfluous (and considering that the musical abilities of some celebrants might be “questionable” at best, sometimes downright dangerous). It certainly would not be appropriate for the celebrant to sing along with the subdeacon or deacon. However, with the exception of the Epistle and Gospel out of appropriateness, the celebrant is not prohibited from singing along with the schola or choir. Sometimes I do if I have the piece memorized. But to do so without the necessary resources, for example, a Liber Usualis, might prove imprudent. One should also realize that celebrating Mass is not an easy matter – even Low Mass. Usually, the celebrant is only too happy to take the occasional break when possible.
During the prayers at the foot of the altar, the choir is singing the introit. Should the congregation be joining in the prayers at the foot of the altar (aren't the servers saying them on behalf of the congregation)?
It must be remembered here that the context is either Solemn or Sung Mass. The answer is: No. The congregation should not join in the prayers at the foot of the altar. If such a thing happened, the result would be cacophonous and, therefore inappropriate, to say the least. The intrinsic beauty of the Mass must not be hindered by anything obtrusive, regardless of motivation. What you state is correct and always has been: The servers make responses and join in the prayers on behalf of the congregation.
What is the white cloth on the altar rail?
It helps to think that the altar rail is an extension of the altar. It is from the table that one receives food to nourish one’s body. It is from the altar that one receives spiritual food. Very often, a kitchen or dining room table is dressed, i.e., covered with a cloth, particularly at formal occasions. Well, Mass is always a formal occasion and the Lord’s Table must always be fittingly adorned. In fact, in the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, the rubrics state that the altar must be covered with three altar cloths.
There are mystical reasons for this and, as you might guess, practical ones as well. First of all, the altar symbolizes Christ. Christ, after He was born, was wrapped in swaddling clothes. After His Death on the cross, he was wrapped in a linen shroud and laid in the tomb. Hence, the altar as a symbol of Christ, must be covered or wrapped. The practical reason for the three cloths is so that, if the Precious Blood is spilled, the three cloths will be quick to absorb it. So, as the altar rail is an extension of the altar, so the rail cloth is an extension of the altar cloth.
What is its practical use? To catch the Sacred Host if It is accidentally dropped. It also is an ideal catcher of random particles that drop from the Sacred Host during Its distribution that might not be caught by the server’s paten. It is also there to cover the cover the hands of the faithful receiving Holy Communion (who should “slide” their hands under it), lest the Sacred Host or Its particles come in contact with non-consecrated hands.
Why is the Canon silent?
First and foremost, questions like this must be seen in the proper context. The best possible context for questions about the Liturgy in general and this specific question in particular is the context established by the Encyclical of (soon to be sainted, we hope) Pope Pius XII of glorious memory, Mediator Dei. In it, the Holy Father succinctly sums up the entire “raison d’être” of the Sacred Liturgy. In paragraph 20, he says, “The Sacred Liturgy is consequently the public worship which Our Redeemer, as Head of the Church, renders to the Father as well as the worship which the community of the faithful renders to its Founder, and through Him to the Heavenly Father.”
This sentence is of great significance when one considers exactly what the priest is, particularly he stands at the altar and celebrates Mass. There, in the “locum sanctum,” the priest is “alter Christus.” Taking the late Holy Father, then, at his word, during the Canon, the “heart of the Mass” as the beloved Archbishop Sheen called it, “alter Christus” directly speaks to His Father. We remember the basic Catholic belief that, at Mass, Christ Himself is Priest and Victim. The Canon is the most intimate moment when the “Beloved” (Christ) speaks to the “Lover” (the Father). What need does anyone else have to be privy to this sacred exchange?
Yet, the Canon is not truly “silent.” The rubrics direct the celebrant to speak “sotto voce” (in a soft voice). The Canon begins with the words ‘Te igitur’ and ends with the ‘Amen’ response after the “minor elevation” which follows the ‘Per ipsum et cum ipso et in ipso’ (Through Him, with Him and in Him). The audible cue for this culminating ‘Amen’ is the ubiquitous ‘Per omnia saecula saeculorum.’ However, we must always realize that, very often, there is a practical consideration as well as a rubrical one. Though there is no music at this point at Low Mass, at a Sung or Solemn Mass, the chanted or sung Sanctus will have only just begun. If a chant is sung, the entire Sanctus will soon be completed, but, if a Mass setting is done, for example by Palestrina or Mozart, the Sanctus will take some time to sing. In situations like this - and the music is set up this way - the Sanctus is sung up to and including the first ‘Hosanna in excelsis.’
The Consecration then takes place. Following this, the ‘Benedictus’ is then sung and concluded with the second and final ‘Hosanna in excelsis.’ This means that there is music going on for much of the canon. It is also for this reason that the Canon is silent. The celebrant can not and must not compete with the music, and the music itself sort of draws a veil over the intimate communion between Christ and the Father. The only exception is in ordination Masses. In these Masses, the newly ordained (be it one or several priests or one or several bishops) “concelebrate” the Mass with the ordaining prelate, beginning with the Offertory. Note, this is a venerable tradition and yet it is not a concelebration in the same sense that the Ordinary Form of the Mass is concelebrated.
Why are there two readings and not three?
This answer, for the most part, is paraphrased from Adrian Fortescue’s "The Mass".
In the first three centuries, there were several readings done during the Mass, apart from the gospel. This number of readings was not fixed, and the readings themselves were taken not only from scripture, but also from letters of bishops (for example St. Ignatius of Antioch and Pope Clement I) and acts of martyrs. The celebrant made a sign when enough had been read. A vestige of this remains in the Mass when the celebrant places his left hand on the altar at the conclusion of the Epistle at Low Mass. The gradual fixing whole service led to the fixing of the lessons too both in terms of portion and number. Prior to this number restriction, one apostolic constitution specified five: the Law; the Prophets; (the Apostles’) Epistles; the Acts; the Gospel.
There are still a few Masses in the Extraordinary Form with three readings, though they do not strictly correspond to the “trinity” of Prophecy, Epistle and Gospel. We see them on the Ember Wednesdays of Advent, Lent, Pentecost and September. In Advent the two Lessons are both from Isaias. In Lent, they are from Exodus and 3 Kings. After Pentecost, they are both from the Book of Acts. In September, they are from Amos and 2 Esdras. The readings in the Good Friday Solemn Liturgy are also three in number: from Osee, from Exodus and, of course, the St. John Passion. There are also four days on which the number of readings exceeds the number specified by the above mentioned apostolic constitution, namely the Ember Saturdays of Advent, Lent, Pentecost and September. These were the days on which ordinations took place. By that, I mean not only ordinations to the priesthood, but ordinations to each of the minor orders as well as to the major orders of subdiaconate, diaconate and priesthood. Details of these ordinations are not appropriate to this question. What is important, however, is that ordinations to these various orders took place in between each of these readings.
In Advent, there are five Lessons, the Epistle and the Gospel. In Lent, there are four Lessons, the Epistle and the Gospel. After Pentecost, there are five Lessons, the Epistle and the Gospel. In September there are four Lessons, the Epistle and the Gospel. As part of his office, the deacon is to read or, if the Mass is Solemn, chant the Gospel. Originally, it fell to the Lector (a minor order) to chant any lessons, even the Epistle. Long ago, the subdeacon did not chant the Epistle. It was not a specific part of his office and he was not commissioned to do so at his ordination. Later, it was, and the task of chanting the Epistle in Solemn Mass fell to the subdeacon. To close, when the number of readings was fixed to two, as is the case on most Sundays, Holy Days and weekdays of the Liturgical Year (apart from those days specified above), they were specifically the Epistle and the Gospel. These two readings then were appropriated to the two additional Sacred Ministers in the Solemn Mass, the subdeacon (Epistle) and the deacon (Gospel).
Should I stand or kneel during the Sanctus and/or the Agnus Dei?
A good rule of thumb is this: If you’re singing anything or saying anything, stand. That’s the principle, short and sweet. More accurately articulated would be the following: The posture initiated by or appropriate to a (liturgical) event should be maintained for the duration of the event. Think of a hymn. No matter what, the appropriate posture for a hymn is standing. Up until recently, if hymns were sung at Mass at all, they were usually at the procession and recessional. Congregational hymns at the offertory and communion have only become the practice with the advent of the Ordinary Form. Hymns at those points are not the rule in the Extraordinary Form. Hence, the proper hymn posture rule, i.e., standing, holds for entrance and recessional hymns.
With regard to movements of the Mass ordinary in a Missa Cantata or Missa Solemnis, if (and this is the important thing) the congregation sings these movements, either completely or antiphonally (i.e., with the choir, alternating verse by verse) the congregation should stand. This holds true even when the celebrant goes to the sedilia and sits. The congregation stands until the movement ends. The same holds true for speaking.
So, categorically, when the congregation sings or prays communally the movements of the Mass ordinary, the posture is standing. This goes for: the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus and Agnus Dei. A change in posture, if appropriate, then FOLLOWS. So, AFTER the Sanctus and Agnus Dei is sung or spoken, the congregation kneels. If, however (and this is specifically for the Gloria and Credo), a choir sings a Mass “setting,” for example, the Missa Brevis of Palestrina, the congregation stands only as long as the celebrant stands while reciting these prayers. The congregation should then sit when the celebrant sits at the sedilia. With regard to the Sanctus and Agnus Dei, when the choir sings a Mass “setting,” since the celebrant does not go to the sedilia, the congregation should kneel – with the bell at the Sanctus and after the Pax versicle and response prior to the Agnus Dei. In rare instances, and only when the choral Kyrie/Christe/Kyrie is extremely long, the celebrant MAY go to the sedilia to sit following the first incensation, and his own read Introit and Kyrie. This has only happened once in my experience, when the choral Kyrie was a full 20 minutes.
Is it appropriate to say that a Sung Mass is ‘layered,’ i.e., the choir and the priest aren’t singing/saying the prayers at the same time?
Simply stated, the answer is yes.
This is something one encounters only in the Extraordinary Form. In comparison to the Ordinary Form, which is strictly linear, the Extraordinary Form can be said to be “layered.” This does not mean that the priest omits even one syllable from the entire Mass text. He omits absolutely nothing. This rule is “eased” a bit in the Missa Solemnis, but only in two instances which I’ll address later.
In a Sung/Solemn Mass, while: the celebrant and servers/ministers (deacon and subdeacon) quietly say the Prayers at the Foot of the Altar; the celebrant incenses the altar and is, himself, incensed; while the priest quietly reads the Introit and says (with the master of ceremonies and/or ministers) the Kyrie, the schola and/or choir chant the Introit and sing the Kyrie. After the celebrant intones the Gloria, the schola or choir take over singing it. However, the celebrant continues the prayer quietly to its conclusion and then retires to the sedilia.
On a Sunday, First or Second Class Feast, this same procedure holds true for the Credo. After chanting the Epistle, the celebrant quietly reads the Gradual and Alleluia (or Gradual and Tract, through the seasons of Septuagesima and Lent; or the double Alleluia in Paschal Tide) while the schola chants them. Though it has nothing to do with the schola, the only time the celebrant does not quietly read the Epistle and Gospel is in the Missa Solemnis when they are chanted by the subdeacon and deacon respectively. Prior to the liturgical modifications of Pope John XXIII in 1962, the celebrant DID read them quietly at the altar. This same procedure of chanting/singing while the celebrant is quietly reading continues for the Offertory Antiphon, the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei. The schola chants the Offertory while the celebrant quietly reads it. The celebrant then goes on with the rest of the Offertory ceremonies while the schola carries on and finishes the Offertory. After the Preface, the celebrant quietly prays the Sanctus while the choir sings it. The singing of the Sanctus/Benedictus, if chanted by the schola, ends shortly before the Consecration.
During this time, the celebrant will have read the six prayers of the Canon that precede the Consecration. If there is a choir singing a Mass setting, the Sanctus is sung through the first Hosanna in Excelsis. The choir pauses for the Consecration and then proceeds with the Benedictus and final Hosanna after the Consecration of the chalice. The celebrant simultaneously prays the rest of the Canon prayers. The same thing happens at the Agnus Dei. After praying it quietly, the celebrant continues with the prayers before his and the congregation’s Holy Communion.
At some point during the distribution of Holy Communion or the Ablutions, the schola chants the Communion antiphon. The celebrant, of course, still reads it quietly at the appropriate time, and then concludes Mass with the chanting of the Postcommunion, the Ite Missa Est V/R, the quietly read Placeat, the clearly spoken Final Blessing and the quietly read Last Gospel.
Is a Solemn Mass the same as a High Mass?
Short and sweet, no. However, this answer requires some explanation.
Generally, in the ‘Traditional Latin Mass,’ the ‘Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite,’ there are three “types” of Mass one is likely to encounter. Before going any further, the term “High Mass” should be explained first. The term “High Mass” can be used to describe two ceremonious “expressions” of the Mass. Both of these expressions involve the use of music. So instead of using the term ‘High,’ we shall use the terms ‘Missa Cantata’ and ‘Missa Solemnis.’ Both the Missa Cantata (Sung Mass) and Missa Solemnis (Solemn Mass) designate ceremonious expressions in which those elements that are variable from Mass to Mass are sung. The only exception to this (for both expressions) is the variable part known as the ‘Secret.’ Though variable, this element is never sung but always prayed “sotto voce.”
Those variable parts are the: Introit, Collect (aka Prayer or Oration), Epistle, Gradual/Alleluia (or Gradual/Tract after Septuagesima; or Alleluia/Alleluia in Eastertide), Gospel, Offertory, Secret, Communion and Postcommunion. Also sung are the following elements of the “Ordinary of the Mass,” i.e., those elements that never change. These are the: Kyrie, Gloria (not present if the vestments are purple or black), Credo (only on Sundays and/or First and Second Class Feasts), Sanctus/Benedictus and Agnus Dei.
So far, it seems like these two expressions are identical. The difference is that, in the Missa Cantata, there is only the Celebrant, whereas in the Missa Solemnis, there are also the Deacon and the Subdeacon. Those are the sacred ministers who assist the celebrant. Though vested, they are not concelebrants. They both wear the maniple. The deacon wears a stole extending across his back and chest from the left shoulder down to the right hip where ends of the stole meet and cross. The deacon’s outer vestment is the dalmatic and that of the subdeacon is the tunicle. There is one other thing to be considered in these Masses, and that is the use of incense.
In the Solemn Mass, the use of incense is required. Though usually used in the Sung Mass, it is not required, strictly speaking. In fact, in the “old days,” incense was NOT used in the Sung Mass. Its use was finally permitted by indult. What it all boils down to is this: The term “High Mass” can be regarded as the genus and, along with the “Missa Cantata,” the “Missa Solemnis” is a species. Up until the tenth century or so, about the time that Masses began, for various reasons, to “multiply,” (and the “Low Mass” started to emerge) the Solemn Mass was the “Forma Normativa,” the normal form of the Rite of Mass.
What is a Votive Mass?
The word ‘votive’ comes from the Latin ‘votum, voti’ for a vow or prayer. A Votive Mass is any Mass the celebrant wishes to celebrate, provided there is no liturgical restriction. What would be a restriction? That a particular Mass MUST be celebrated on a particular day. For example, on a Sunday, the priest must celebrate the Sunday Mass. He has no choice in the matter. If a certain weekday is the feast day of a certain saint, the priest must celebrate the Mass of that saint’s feast.
This rule is easily followed, on days of the first, second or third class. Note: the term ‘class’ is only meaningful in the context of the Extraordinary Form. The Ordinary Form has designations, but are not referred to as “classes.” First class usually refers to major, universal feast days, such as All Saints Day or The Immaculate Conception. Second class feasts are important feasts but a bit “lower” in solemnity, for example, The Most Holy Name of Jesus, St. John the Apostle or The Holy Innocents. Third class feasts, though certainly still important, would be for saints like St. Cecilia or St. Charles Borromeo.
It’s on “ferial” days of the fourth class, i.e., those days not designated as a saint’s feast day or which do not commemorate a sacred event. On such days, a priest can celebrate any Mass he’s like, more or less. To be sure, weekdays have different votive Masses “assigned” to them. For example: Tuesday is the day for the votive Mass of the Angels, Friday is the day for the votive Mass of the Sacred Heart. However, a priest is not bound by this “guide.” A priest may have a special devotion to Our Lady and therefore, at every possible opportunity, he will celebrate, say, the Mass of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Certainly, there are other restrictions and specifications that “fine tune” the whole votive Mass topic, but this is a basic definition and description of the term.
Why is the Epistle read facing towards the altar, and the Gospel read facing to the right of the Altar (from the altar’s perspective; from the perspective of the faithful, to the left)?
First and foremost, we must establish that proper orientation for the celebration of Mass is toward the East. That is, all prayers were directed toward God and all faced God in the same direction, i.e., toward the east. This begs the question: What if the sanctuary is NOT, technically, at the eastern extremity of the building. This happens a lot today. Very often, it is not possible to build churches with the proper orientation, technically speaking. How was this dealt with? The same way many things are dealt with today… by conferring “virtual” properties on them. Hence, even if the sanctuary is not at the eastern end of the “nave,” it is “virtually” considered so inside the church. When one enters the church, one leaves the world and things of the world. After all, at Holy Rosary, the Extraordinary Form, technically speaking, is celebrated facing north. The Ordinary Form, technically speaking, is celebrated facing south. However, for our purposes, we consider the Extraordinary Form in this Q/A forum.
Both readings in the Mass, i.e., the Epistle and Gospel, are primarily for the instruction of the faithful. The ancient practice was that the reader for both the Epistle and Gospel, faced the congregation. Over the centuries changes have occurred. Father O’Connell in his The Celebration of Mass, writes that the subdeacon, away from the altar, but in the sanctuary, may chant the Epistle facing the altar (as does the celebrant at Low Mass), but that it is preferable that he chant the Epistle facing the faithful. With regard to the Gospel: At Low Mass, the celebrant faces north-east, more or less. Some relevance for this may be found below. N.B. As the subdeacon mirrors the posture of the celebrant for the Epistle, so does the deacon for the Gospel. In the Solemn Mass, the deacon chants the Gospel away from the altar, in the sanctuary (room permitting) or, in the case of Holy Rosary – where room in the sanctuary is at a premium – in the nave transept, facing due north. Why? There are reasons, both conventional and anecdotal. First, there is always the necessity to show reverence. In this case, reverence for the altar which represents Christ and for the celebrant, alter Christus. The deacon should not turn his back to the celebrant or to the altar. Hence, he can not fully face the faithful. However, facing north, he is able to face the faithful “halfway” and, simultaneously, does not completely turn his back on the altar and celebrant. There may also be some truth in the following anecdotal reason: The Gospel is to be proclaimed to the heathen. From Rome’s geographical perspective, the heathen are to the north, i.e., the Franks, Celts, Vikings, Angles, Saxons, etc. Facing the north, the deacon proclaims the Gospel to the heathen.
Why does the server raise the bottom and/or side of the Priest's chasuble during the Elevation?
As Archbishop Sheen said - when he was only a monsignor, narrating a famous film (well, famous in Traditional Catholic circles) featuring the celebration of Solemn High Mass* on Easter Sunday 1940 (to the best of my knowledge), made at Our Lady of Sorrows Church (now Basilica) Chicago - "It is a long established principle of the Church never to completely drop from Her public worship, any ceremony, object or prayer which once occupied a place in that worship." This statement will hold true for many of the questions I answer in this forum and should be remembered by all who read these Q/As.
We must remember that the maxim always was and always must be "only the best for God," be that in the use of the finest fabrics for vestments, precious metals for sacred vessels, the most beautiful and appropriate sacred music, the most imposing and awe-inspiring church architecture, etc. Centuries ago (and we still see vestiges of this in heavy 'cloth of gold' vestments in use up until the time of the Second Vatican Council), vestments were ponderously heavy and stiff, having in addition, in the case of gold or silver vestments, a large metal content in the fabric. They were so heavy that, at the time of the Elevation following the Consecration, the celebrant needed assistance in raising the Sacred Host and Precious Blood. His servers assisted him by taking some of the weight off his arms by holding the chasuble and actually raising it with him during the act of elevation.
Today, vestments are not so heavy and the celebrant has no trouble in elevating the Sacred Host and Precious Blood. But folloing the principle quoted above by Archbishop Sheen (RIP), the practice is still retained in memory of what once was.
* This Mass was produced by "The Perpetual Novena in Honor of Our Sorrowful Mother" (begun in 1937 and probably defunct now, like so many other things) and is available on DVD, produced by Keep the Faith (www.keepthefaith.org) under the title "The Immemorial Tridentine Mass".
What is that piece of cloth on the left wrist of the Priest?
It is called the ‘maniple.’ The origin of the word is ‘manus/pleo,’ Latin for ‘handful.’ It is one of the six vestments the priest wears. For many years, vestments have come in “sets.” So the chasuble (the cape-like outer vestment), the stole (a long scarf-like cloth worn under the chasuble) and the maniple “match” in fabric, style and color. Historically, the maniple was a scarf-like or wide ribbon-like cloth that the celebrant held in his hand. It made no difference whether it was the right or left hand. There are two symbolic meanings I’m aware of: the maniple represented a napkin with which the priest, while laboring in the Master’s vineyard, wiped the sweat from his brow; it also represented a fine cloth (that might be scented) carried by a noble or royal person – the priest as king. Gradually, the practice of carrying this cloth (it must have been clumsy to deal with during Mass) gave way to its being worn on the left sleeve of the alb, the long white “foundation” garment.
Why do the servers kiss the hand of the priest and the object that exchanges hands?
These kisses are known as “liturgical kisses” and when they involve two individuals, for example, the celebrant and deacon, along with objects, they are marks of liturgical “politeness.” If it is just the celebrant kissing an object (the only “objects” being the altar, the book and the paten), it is a mark of reverence (the altar = Christ; the book = the Word; the paten = where the Body of Christ rests). Between the celebrant and deacon, then the deacon and subdeacon, and so on down the line, the kiss – now the Pax or Kiss of Peace – is a mark of reverent affection. There are other qualifications as well. The priest, in se, is “alter Christus,” and therefore – particularly when offering Mass – is shown reverence by the inferior ministers. The kiss is also a mark of humility on the part of the deacon, subdeacon or, in Low Mass, the server.
Our associate pastor, Father Michael W. Magiera, is a priest of the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter. Send your own questions to Father Magiera at brevisdictata@gmail.com.