reorganisation and destruction of irish catholic churches

To turn to the question of the shape of the altar in the Latin church, Praxiteles wants to begin by commenting on the current awful fad for square blocks that, we are told, are more “authentic” and more “communitarian”.

Well, firstly, square altars are practically unknown in the Latin tradition. In the middle ages, smaller altars were used but they were not square. The medieval Latin altar was elongated at the front and back. And, unlike the phonie things being foisted on the unsuspecting faithful, they were covered by a canopy or baldacchino.

We can illustrate the point by showing a lovely example in Pinturicchio’s (1454-1513) fresco in the sacristy of Siena Cathedral depicting the entry of Pope Pius II (1458-1464) into the Lateran.

Here is the glorious fresco:

And here we have another example: the High Altar in the abbey church of Sant’Antimo near Moltalcino in upper Tusacy. It was raise in 1120. Unfortunately, its baldacchino is long gone. BUt, again, the altar, while small, is NOT square and it is not squat on the floor of the nave.

The abbey was suppressed in 1464 and transferred to the Bishop of Montalcino by Pius II.

And this is how the altar functions -as it always has. Just remember the prescriptions of Article 399 of the General Instruction to the Roman Missal of 2000.

And another example of the same arrangement. This time we see the altar and ciborium of the Basilica of Sant’Athanasio at Castel Sant’Elia near Viterbo in Upper Latium dating from around 1050. Note again that the altar is not square:

And another general view of San Clemente:

And another example, the present ciborio in St Paul’s Basilica. Clearly in this case, the altar is quite rectanbular.

And again, the Abbey of San Clemente at Cassauria

Prax: That display of magnificence is almost too much; it is a wonderful historical accident that San Clemente is in the charge of the Irish Dominicans – I think it was Prior Mullooly (?) who led the amazing excavations in the lower church. (If anyone has never seen SanC get there next trip!) For all its splendour (and it is splendid) San Marco does need a good restoration to get the full effect of the mosaics.
Am I right in thinkinking that ‘they’ got rid of a baldacchino in St Peter’s Belfast in its recent restoration? I wonder what happened to it and why it could not have been re-erected over the new altar.

Here is the Geburts Christi Altar [The Nativity Altar] in the North absidal chapel of Regensburg Cathedral. It was raise between 1410 and 1420. The altar is not square and it is canopied and approached by a step.

Then we have the Betrueger planked before this masterpiece. Note the cube, dropped on the floor and left uncovered. This fashionable arrangement has nothing whatsoever to do with the earlier Christian traditon and is historically unconnected with it. Let us be perfectly clear about this phoney, there is nothing to it vaguely having to do with the altar tradition from about 800-1500 and, by the absence of even the slightest hint of Christian iconography, it is not even vaguely related to Christianity. Anyone who was dope enough to plank this piece of junk before the real thing must have a pretty big ego and is deserving of all the criticism the arrangement invites- I mean it does not even have a smooth surface settling instead for the Fred Flintstone look!

@Praxiteles wrote:

Here is the Geburts Christi Altar [The Nativity Altar] in the North absidal chapel of Regensburg Cathedral. It was raise between 1410 and 1420. The altar is not square and it is canopied and approached by a step.

Then we have the Betrueger planked before this masterpiece. Note the cube, dropped on the floor and left uncovered. This fashionable arrangement has nothing whatsoever to do with the earlier Christian traditon and is historically unconnected with it. Let us be perfectly clear about this phoney, there is nothing to it vaguely having to do with the altar tradition from about 800-1500 and, by the absence of even the slightest hint of Christian iconography, it is not even vaguely related to Christianity. Anyone who was dope enough to plank this piece of junk before the real thing must have a pretty big ego and is deserving of all the criticism the arrangement invites- I mean it does not even have a smooth surface settling instead for the Fred Flintstone look!

When confronted with the eyesore of the plunked-down cube, it is useful to read the following remarks of the great medieval historian and pioneer liturgist Edmund Bishop (1846-1917). It is conveivable how a selective reading of this passage may have led to some of the more outrageous excesses of the last ‘run’ of ripping and snorting that has laid waste many a sanctuary and altar in great churches. Nevertheless, the passage in its entirety (with anticipatory apologies to johnglas) bears careful consideration:

“With the fourth century the Church stands out in the face of the world, free in a new and sovereign manner to fashion her outward adornment in accordance with her own spirit, or under the external influences from which, as no mere abstraction but a very mixed body of living men and women, she has at no time been free – in the fourth century less than most other ages. As is manifest at the first glance, the particular, the distinguishing, feature of the altar then and in the centuries that follow, in fact during the first period – whether the material be stone or wood, whether the altar be solid or whether it be hollow – is the prominence and respect given to the holy Table, as the place of sacrifice. It was in form not oblong as now in the West, but usually a cube; and stood as a table in the utmost simplicity. The Lord’s board was too holy (too ‘awful’ is another view) to bear anything else but the Mystic Oblation itself, and such objects, the cup, the paten, the linen cloth, as were necessary for the offering up of the sacrifice. If indeed the Book of the Gospels lay on the altar from the beginning of the mass until the gospel was read, it is to be remembered that the Gospel Book was regarded as representing our Lord Himself, just as the altar came to be conceived of as the throne of the Great King. The rich altar coverings may be taken, I conceive, as an integral part of the altar itself. Everything of the nature of ornamental accessory was around, above, but apart from, the altar. And of these ornaments or accessories that which would most strike the eye, perhaps, was largely determined by a consideration uppermost in the minds of many Christians of those days, an idea new in the now triumphant Church, viz. that the holy sacrifice was not merely a ‘mystery of faith’, the ‘unspeakable mysteries’ that must be withdrawn from the eye of the unbeliever, but a mystery so ‘dread’ that upon it not even the Christian himself might gaze. Herein we have in great measure the explanation of the ciborium, as it was then called, of baldaquin on four columns, which, as I may say with the old proverb, hit two (nay three) birds with one stone. First, strict use and requirement: the altar must be veiled; here was a convenient means for hanging up veils or curtains. Secondly, it served for honour: the existence of a covering, umbraculum, dais, umbrella, over, and marking, the seat or station of the ruler, magistrate, pontiff, existed in the general instinct of the peoples; it was surely fitting to render the same honour to the seat of Majesty of the King of kings. Lastly, it must be admitted that a mere square table, be it raised on many steps or on few, is not in itself a dignified object; the ‘ciborium’ therefore satisfied the eye and fell in with the sense of the fitness of things in the mind of the common Christian worshiper in the fourth century and onwards; moreover, it afforded (as was found little by little) all the opportunities for adorning the altar which the devout fancy might exercise without infringing on the idea of the inviolable sanctity of that holy board. Was it desired to have lights over and above the altar? they could be hung from t he ciborium; flowers? they could be twined round its columns; how could precious metals, gold, gems, more fully enrich the altar than by means of crowns hanging directly over it, suspended by chains from the roof of the ciborium within? Was it desired to raise on high the banner of the Great King, the Cross, it could find no more fitting place than the apex of the ciborium. But it is unnecessary to proceed in further detail. From almost every point of view the altar of our first period (with its adjuncts) may, I think, be considered the ideal altar. I do not mean for imitation nowadays; quite the contrary; that would be a make-believe. But given the requirements and the ideas of those days (not of earlier times), it appears as a model of fitting adaptation of means to ends.”

– Edmund Bishop, “On the History of the Christian Altar’ in Liturgica historica (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1918), 21-22. Emphasis in the original.

Note the remark about the cube-shape table: “a mere square table … is not in itself a dignified object.” Yet this is what often replaces or, in the case of the ‘betrueger’ plunked down in front of the Geburts Christi Altar in the cathedral of Regensberg, offends magnificent works of art which actually constitute the finest expression of a school, a style, or a period.

Note likewise the notion that steps, be they many or few, always led up to the place of sacrifice. Those interested in pursuing the matter in greater detail would do well to read the complete essay by Bishop, then peruse Cyril Pocknee’s The Christian Altar (Oxford: University Press, 1960). Canonists and historians of canon law, no less than architects and soi-disant liturgists, might profit from reading a dissertation written at The Catholic University of America in 1927: Nicholas Martin Bliley, The Altar in the Code of Canon Law, Canon Law Studies 38 (Washington DC: The Catholic University of America, 1927).

Thoughts?