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The Glory of Catholic Architecture Conference
Hosted by the Liturgical Institute
by Denis McNamara
Register Now
Register Now » for the conference.The workshop will be held at the University of Saint Mary of Lake Conference Center on a campus of 800 acres of wooded land, a 200 acre lake and beautiful Colonial Revival buildings. The campus is located about 45 minutes north of Chicago’s O’Hare Airport and about one hour south of Milwaukee’s Mitchell Airport.
Conference Center Address:
1000 East Maple Avenue, Mundelein, Illinois, 60060Local travel details will be mailed to all registrants. For a map with driving directions, click here ».
For questions about registration, registration forms, room and meals, or extended stay please call 847.837.4542 or e-mail the Institute.
Schedule
Thursday, October 25, 20123:00 pm Check-in opens
7:30 pm Keynote Address: What Makes Architecture Sacred? by Fr. Uwe Michael Lang, COFriday, October 26, 2012
8:00 am Check-in opens
9:20 am Welcome
9:30 am Church Architecture as Heaven on Earth: 2002-2012 by Dr. Denis McNamara, The Liturgical Institute
10:30 am Process, Problems and Progress: Building a New Church by Duncan Stroik, University of Notre Dame
11:30 am Ornamental Painting in Churches: Artistic & Theological Possibilities by Mr. Jeff Greene, Evergreene Architectural Arts
2:00 pm Roundtable With Presenters
3:00 pm Live Design Clinic with Projects from Conference Attendees:
Church Renovations by Mr. James McCrery, McCrery Architects
New and Design Development by Mr. David Meleca, Meleca Architecture
5:00 pm AdjournDenis R. McNamara, Ph.D. is an architectural historian specializing in American church architecture. He is the assistant director at the Liturgical Institute of the University of Saint Mary of the Lake / Mundelein Seminary, and serves as a liturgical design consultant
@apelles wrote:
What are the typical features of a Roman Catholic Church?
As described (with a slight tone of disdain) on answers.com http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_are_the_typical_features_of_a_Roman_Catholic_ChurchAnswer:
This was once a very simple question to answer, however, since Vatican II, a wave of novelty has rippled through the Church affecting everything, even ecclesiastical architecture. This is no surprise since the architecture of a Church is a reflection of the faith and so when novelties enter the faith, they are reflected in art, music and architecture.Some features that remain in all Roman Catholic churches:
A Sanctuary
The sanctuary is typically at the center or front of a church. It is distinguished by an altar, usually on an elevation to the rest of the church, though some modern designs wish the people to be on the same level or even slightly above the altar, via a sloping floor. The theological implications of this reversal are on purpose.A Choir Loft or Accommodation
Typically, especially in pre-Vatican II churches, there is a choir loft or reserved pew section for a choir or schola or organist at the back of the church. A schola was an all male choir that sung the Gregorian chant propers and common of the Mass and sometimes would be in cassock and surplice and stand in the center aisle of the church. Organs were typically in the loft and attended by an organist; the massive organ pipes are often visibly running up the walls. In modern churches, where emphasis is put on participation in liturgical singing and responses, the choir is usually situated at the front, beside the sanctuary, so that the congregation can see them and even watch them play their instruments which now include most anything from guitar to drums, tamberines to flutes, etc. Such instruments were once forbidden in churches.A Vestibule
Upon first entering a church, there is a lobby section that might have a bookstore, coat room, statues, etc. This is called a vestibule. In older churches, there is an ambiance of the sacred to help elevate the mind before entering the church proper. This is accomplished by a vaulting ceiling, usually with a broad painting on it or featuring a coffered ceiling. Often there is rich and elaborate decoration; there are devotional statues and candles, paintings, stained glass, stalls for holy cards and books and perhaps even a bookstore. Modern churches resemble more of a reception hall atmosphere and have very sparse decor. Sometimes, if the church is very small or poorly designed, there may be a baptismal font in the vestibule. Although no longer stipulated in the modern rite of baptism, baptisms used to begin outside of the church, in a baptistry or vestibule since the child symbolically was not yet ready to enter the church until undergoing pre-baptismal rites that included an exorcism and anointing with holy oils. The priest would then place his stole upon the child, symbolizing the cross, and then all would enter the church to complete the baptism.A Sacristy
A sacristy contains all the implements, books and vestments for liturgical ceremonies, a sort of antechamber where priests prepare for Mass. Typically there is a tabernacle and an altar in the sacristy against one wall, usually the one that is opposite to the church sanctuary. There are shallow drawers and cabinets for vestments and holy vessels. Supplies such as hosts, candles, incense, etc., are all stored in the sacristy as well. There is a sink called a sacrarium which is used to wash the priests hands and any blessed water; the pipe to this sink goes directly into the earth as is prescribed for the disposing of holy things. Holy oils and other sacred vessels are stored in the sacristy either in the tabernacle there or in a separate vault.A Cross
A Catholic church must have a cross on it, usually in a prominent place such as atop a steeple or bell tower. The cross is made out of stone or wood.The Stations of the Cross
Inside a typical church along the walls are the fourteen (fifteen in modern churches) Stations of the Cross, a penitential devotion that invites the faithful to meditate upon the last hours of Christ from His trial to His burial (or resurrection, if allowing for the 15th station that has been added). These are usually carved from wood or painted though they are represented in a variety of mediums. If entering a church from the vestibule, the Stations begin at the front on the left side of the sanctuary and run along the wall to the back and then skip across the aisle and resume along the right wall back to the sanctuary. Usually each wall has seven stations.Stained Glass
A staple of Catholic architecture, windows are specifically designed to accommodate large panes of stained glass that usually depict a saint or holy event. The rose window, so common to cathedrals and basilicas is a massive circular disc in the back of the church above the vestibule and loft. Smaller churches may just have an intricate stained glass window in this place since rose windows are rare and expensive. Modern stained glass is usually a mishmash of color and formless shapes, which is frankly rather pitiful when compared to the quality, art and color of stained glass of pre-Vatican II times. The glass was meant to show forth the saints through light, a metaphor for Christ illuminating them and their virtues and example and thus the affect was to raise the mind to God, whereas modern stained glass with its abstract shattered shapes just distorts and tints light.A Pulpit
If entering from the vestibule, a pulpit can usually be seen at the front of the church, left of the sanctuary. It is from here that the priest gives his sermon. In older churches, the pulpit is often of wood or stone with elaborate carvings or statues around it. The pulpit has a short flight of stairs so that the priest is on an elevated level to the congregation to better allow his voice to project. To further aid his voice there may be a wooden disc or board suspended above him or even projecting out of the pulpit itself over him – this is a sounding board which helps bounce sound back towards the congregation. Many modern churches do not bother constructing a pulpit and instead usually have a lectern – a wooden reading stand – or just a microphone stand. Some priests prefer to preach solely via the microphone clipped to their vestments, thus allowing them to walk down the aisles, among the congregation, as they preach.Things that are traditionally part of church architecture but have been repressed since Vatican II (Note, in any church built before Vatican II, these things can still be seen if the diocesan bishop or parish pastor has not deliberately had them removed or destroyed):
A Communion Rail
Typically made from the same material as the altar or church itself – meaning marble, stone or wood – a Communion rail was built into the floor and was the demarcation between the sanctuary and the congregation. Communion rails are no longer used for two reasons: Communicants used to kneel to receive Holy Communion and so leaned on the railing. Communion is now often received standing, except in the most traditional parishes, and so the railing is redundant. Secondly, Vatican II wished the faithful to participate more in the liturgy and modern theology wishes to emphasize the priesthood of the people. To this effect, the demarcation between the priest and the people, sanctuary and congregation, was removed.The Reredos
Altars used to be against the front wall of the church sanctuary – save in cathedrals and other massive churches where the altar was centered – as the priest celebrated Mass facing the tabernacle with his back to the people. The reredos was the elaborate front piece that surrounded the tabernacle and spread the length and breadth of the wall. Reredos were usually made out of the same material as the altar and had columns and pillars with platforms for statues. Altars have since been moved out from the wall and the tabernacles taken off them since the priest now celebrates mass facing the people and it is considered important that he has direct contact with them visually. Front walls in modern churches are often just white washed or feature some abstract mosaic or painting.The Baldicino
In cathedrals and basilicas, where altars were centered and not against the wall, instead of a reredos you would see a baldicino. The baldicino was an immense covering which sat on four pillars over the altar. It was often done in the most resplendent decoration and materials. Modern cathedrals and basilicas, such as that in LA, do not have baldicinos.
Side Altars
Besides the main altar at the front, any church bigger than one with an exceptionally small congregation had side altars, small niches along the church walls that had other altars where a priest could say mass or the faithful kneel to pray their devotions. There could be as many side altars as the church could structurally accommodate; massive cathedrals and monasteries typically had dozens. Each side altar was dedicated to a particular saint or mystery of Our Lord and had its own reredos and tabernacle, though usually these tabernacles where not functional as the Blessed Sacrament was reserved in only one tabernacle, the main one on the altar or Blessed Sacrament chapel. Side altars are now rarely constructed if at all because most parishes, because of the shortage of priests, do not have more than one or two priests that may need to say mass. Further, the new theology makes mass a social event almost requiring a congregation and so side altars, where a priest would say a private mass, are no longer used.The Crypt
Typically, if a church had a basement, it was reserved for the repose of the dead either above the floor in stone sarcophagi or in the floor itself or in horizontal compartments sealed in the walls. Usually holy personages, rich or famous personages provided they died as faithful Catholics or clergy were buried in such places.Overall Shape and Organization
Modern churches are notorious for their architectural ugliness. This may seem a very subjective judgment, but truly, modern church architecture has utterly departed from its sacred symbolism. Large churches, such as cathedrals, used to be constructed in the shape of a cross, so that if you were to look down at them they would actually look like a cross. The length of the church – where the main aisle ran down – was called the nave. The crossbar that intersected the nave was called the transept. The point where the nave and transept intersected was called the crossing and usually here was found the sanctuary. In larger churches, like cathedrals, there used to be a dome, such as St. Peter’s in Rome, and the outer area in the church around this dome was called the ambulatory and was ringed with side altars. For such massive churches there were needed flying buttresses, these are the huge pillars outside of a church that look as if spider legs jutting out from the body. They are needed to offset the weight so that the walls do not cave in. Churches used to always have depictions of the faith on their walls, either in running paintings or carvings, so that even the most simple soul could absorb the catechism just by looking around the building. Modern churches are remarkably bare of iconography.
Some modern churches, at least in the 1960s and 70s attempted to incorporate the Catholic Faith into their architectural designs with mixed results, although they were formidable attempts. Then things just got silly and then downright insulting. Most modern churches are barren, resembling assembly halls more than anything else and stripped of the decor and symbolism that churches were typically replete with in centuries past. In a huge twist of irony, modern church design is so eccentric and strange that it can be identified by it; often people look at a building and conclude it is a church because it could not possibly be anything else due to its unique malformation. There are two reasons for this architectural dissolution. One is that the modern Church is not concerned with appearances, since the emphasis is on the people, not on the exteriors hence distraction and any form of barrier or separation is avoided. Secondly, modern churches are designed with an eye on being current, trying to reach the world by adapting to modern fringe design and the tastes of the times.This is not the best example of well expressed clear and distinct ideas.
The Myth of the Domus Ecclesiae
— and how this has influenced modern Church architecture
Adoremus BulletinOnline Edition:
August 2012
Vol. XVIII, No. 5The Myth of the Domus Ecclesiae
— and how this has influenced modern Church architecture
by Steven J. Schloeder, PhD, AIA
In the last century we have seen a steady devolution of Catholic sacred architecture from grand and formal edifices to decidedly more residential-scale and casual buildings. This was not accidental, but rather a deliberate effort to return to what mid-20th century liturgical scholars considered the true character of Christian worship as understood in the early Church.
The intention of the ressourcement (return to the sources, i.e., the early Church) movement was to recover the true meaning of the Christian liturgical assembly and the true meaning of Christian assembly space. Some interpreted this to mean that the Church should emulate the early Christian Church in their liturgical practices and its surroundings — that the architecture should be simplified to heighten the symbolic expression of the gathered community, and architectural “accretions” through the centuries should be removed as nonessential, distracting, and counterproductive to the goal of “active participation.”
Active Participation
It is historically curious that the desire to promote active participation of the faithful came to imply a radical reductionism in the majesty, beauty, iconography, and symbolism of church buildings. The notion of “active participation” as the genesis of the twentieth-century liturgical reforms was first articulated by Saint Pope Pius X (d. 1914) in his 1903 exhortation on sacred music, Tra le Sollecitudini. Pope Pius X reminds the faithful of the importance of the church building in the formation of the Christian soul through the Christian liturgy:
Among the cares of the pastoral office … a leading one is without question that of maintaining and promoting the decorum of the House of God in which the august mysteries of religion are celebrated, and where the Christian people assemble to receive the grace of the Sacraments…. Nothing should have place, therefore, in the temple calculated to disturb or even merely to diminish the piety and devotion of the faithful, nothing that may give reasonable cause for disgust or scandal, nothing, above all, which directly offends the decorum and sanctity of the sacred functions and is thus unworthy of the House of Prayer and of the Majesty of God.1
For Pius X, “the sanctity and dignity of the temple” was important so that the faithful might acquire the proper spirit for true “active participation” in the holy liturgy. Active participation properly understood is the goal of worship in the liturgy — it is the end not the means. Among other things, the means include that the liturgy is done well in a place aptly designed for worship. In the mind of Pius, the church building ought to be constructed to express the majesty and dignity of the House of God.
Given the clear intent expressed in this motu proprio of Saint Pius X as the point of departure for the 20th-century Liturgical Movement, how are we to explain the subsequent diminishment of the church building as a sacramental sign of the heavenly realities?
Mid-Century Liturgical Arguments
The typical rhetoric of the mid-century liturgical authors was that we ought to build churches for the “modern man” or “constructed to serve men of our age.” Styles and forms from previous ages were declared defunct or no longer vital. One even finds the condemnation of wanting a “church that looks like a church” as being nostalgic — an unhealthy yearning for a past Golden Age that really never was.2
For instance, Edward Mills wrote in The Modern Church: “If we do not build churches in keeping with the spirit of the age we shall be admitting that religion no longer possesses the same vitality as our secular buildings.”3 His book concerns topics such as efficient planning, technology, cost abatement, and environmental considerations. It is worth mentioning that only a few years before this book, Mills had written The Modern Factory, with the same rationalistic concerns for efficient planning, technology, cost abatement, and environmental considerations.
But we see something else going on in the mid-20th century writers. One cannot simply discard two millennia of sacred architectural forms and styles without having a new paradigm to replace it, and one cannot have a valid new paradigm without having grounds for discarding the old paradigm. The paradigm itself needed to change: and all the better if the new paradigm was promoted as the “authentic” paradigm, the recovery of what was lost.
Within this rhetoric of building churches for our age and in the willingness to discard the past is an embedded mythos. By this accounting, the Church began to formalize her liturgy and her architecture only after the Edict of Milan, when Constantine first legalized Christianity. The imperially sponsored building programs brought formality and the hierarchical trappings of elements derived from the imperial court.4
Prior to this Pax Constantiniana, the Church was a domestic enterprise, and the model of domestic architecture — the domus ecclesiae (literally, “house of the church”) — was the simple, humble, and hospitable residential form in which early Christians gathered to meet the Lord and meet one another in the Lord for fellowship, meals, and teaching. This became valued as a model for contemporary worship and self-understanding. The early house church — seen as pure, simple, unsullied by later liturgical and architectural accretions without the trappings of hierarchy and formality — was to be the model for modern liturgical reform.
As Father Richard Vosko, a priest from Rochester, New York, and liturgical architecture consultant, surmised, “The earliest understanding of a Christian church building implies that it is a meeting house — a place of camaraderie, education and worship. In fact, the earliest Christian tradition clearly held that the Church does not build temples to honor God. That is what the civic religions did.”5
This notion was put most forcefully by Lutheran architect E.A. Sovik, who wrote: “It is conventionally supposed that the reasons that Christians of the first three centuries built almost no houses of worship were that they were too few, or too poor, or too much persecuted. None of these is true. The real reason that they didn’t build was that they didn’t believe in ecclesiastical building.”6
The ascendency of the residential model as the authentic liturgical form raised another question of architectural history: what to do with the intervening 1700 years of church building? For the mid-century and later architectural writers, the simple answer was that the domestic model was the ideal, and all later grand and hierarchical buildings are the deviations. Therefore, all the intervening eras, liturgical and artistic expressions, and architectural forms and styles came in for censure.
The changes in the age of Constantine were implicated for the advent of clericalism, turning the congregation into passive viewers at a formalistic ritual, the loss of liturgical and spiritual intimacy, and the subjugation of the Church’s evangelical mission to the politics of the emperor. The Christian basilica was thereby rejected as an expression of power-mongering and imperialistic tendencies.7
The Byzantine churches were rejected for their courtly imperial formality, where the ministers are hidden behind the iconostasis, only to venture out in courtly processions. The Romanesque was rejected for its immensely long naves that separated the people from God, and the proliferation of side altars required for the monks to fulfill their daily obligations to say private Masses.8 The Gothic style was criticized for its alienating monumentalism and for its reliquaries of dubious merit.9 Baroque architecture comes in for special censure: for triumphalism, for Tridentine rubricism, for pagan artistic themes and sensuality, for hyper-valorization of the Eucharist in reaction to Protestantism, and for dishonesty in the use of materials.10 Father Louis Bouyer’s judgment of the Counter-reformation liturgy was that it was “embalmed” — devoid of life and vitality.11
The decided trend of mid-20th century liturgical and architectural thinking was to reject historical styles. Clearing the table to start anew, with a sweep of the hand, Father Reinhold dismissed all previous architectural eras, styles and forms:
Conclusion: We see that all these styles were children of their own day. None of their forms are ours. We have concrete, steel, wood compositions, brick, stone, glass of all kinds, plastic materials, reverse cycle heat and radiant heat. We can no longer identify the minority, called Christendom, and split in schisms, with the kingdom of God on earth. Our society is a pluralistic one and lives in a secularist atmosphere… [O]ur architects must find as good an expression in our language of forms, as our fathers did in theirs.12
Domus Ecclesiae — Domus Dei
Thus were 1700 years of Christian architectural history discarded as liturgically erroneous and inapplicable for contemporary buildings in favor of simpler domestic-scaled places for assembly. This however, was not manufactured out of thin air. It was clear from Scripture that the early Church worshipped in the residences of the wealthier members of the community. The Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions mention a wealthy and powerful man who gave over his great house to the Church to establish what ought to be considered the first ‘cathedral’ as the chair of Peter.13 Given the lack of excavated basilicas from the pre-Constantinian era, it was assumed that there was some sort of organic development between the domestic house and the basilica that only found full expression in the fourth century.
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, many historians grappled with the question of transition between these two forms, looking at the Roman house with the triclinium [dining table with couches on three sides], various sorts of intermediate structures such as the aula ecclesia [lit. “hall of the church”, a formal room for worship], adaptations of the Roman civic basilica, and the architecture of the imperial palace, among others.14
With the discovery of the church at Dura Europos in the 1930s, these speculations all went by the wayside, and the model of the “house church” came to the fore.
This discovery was of profound importance given that it was the only known identifiable and dateable pre-Constantinian church. It was obviously a residence converted to the needs of a small Christian community. Significantly, it was also a rather late dated church — about 232 AD — and quite in keeping with the expectations from all the various scriptural references to a domestic liturgical setting.15
Henceforth, especially in the late 1950s and the 1960s, the dominant thesis in liturgical circles took the domus ecclesiae as the architectural model for pre-Constantinian Christian architecture. The common vision for new parishes built in the wake of Vatican II was therefore toward simpler, more domestically scaled buildings in emulation of the domus ecclesiae in which Christians supposedly gathered before the imperial approbation of Christianity in the fourth century.
The only problem for this romantic model of a domestic residential architecture, built for a small gathering of early Christians celebrating a simple agape meal, is its dubious merit.
Domus ecclesiae — “house church” —the popular term among liturgists emphasized the communal nature of the assembly is not particularly apt. It is also anachronistic. The phrase domus ecclesiae is not found in Scripture. No author of the first, second, or third century uses this term to describe the church building. The phrase domus ecclesiae cannot be found to describe any church building before the Peace of Constantine (313 AD), but rather seems used to imply a house owned by the Christians, such as a bishop’s residence.16
There are many other ancient terms used to identify the church building, but domus Dei seems to be of particular importance. Throughout the New Testament, the assembly of Christians is called domus Dei, the house of God. Paul’s passage in I Tim 3:15 could not be clearer: in domo Dei … quae est ecclesia Dei vivi (“the house of God, which is the church of the living God”). Likewise, domus Dei or its derivative domestici Dei (household of God) is found in Eph 2:19, Heb 10:21, and I Pt 4:17.
Following scripture, Tertullian (d. 220) used domus Dei in a way that can only mean a church building. This key term, domus Dei — and its Greek equivalent, oikos tou theou — is found in Hippolytus (d. 235), Clement of Alexandria (d. 215), and Eusebius (d. 339), among others. But even oikos or domus does not suggest any humble residential or domestic association. Oikos is generally a house, but it can also serve to describe a temple (as in a house of the gods). Similarly, domus could also refer to the grandest of buildings, such as the emperor’s palace — domus divina — or Nero’s ostentatious Domus Aurea. These are hardly small-scale and intimate associations. It seems that long before the time of Constantine, the Church had already begun to move out of the residential environments we read of in the book of Acts and the letters of Paul.
Textual Counter-evidence
We actually know very little about pre-Constantinian liturgy or Christian architecture. Yet from the scant literary evidence we do have, there is a strong probability that even in the second century the Church owned land and built special buildings for the community. The earliest record of the special purpose church building seems to be from Chronicle of Arbela, a fifth-century Syrian manuscript that tells us that Bishop Isaac (Ishaq) (135-148) “had built a large well-ordered church which exists today.”17 The Chronicles of Edessa mention a Christian church destroyed in a city-wide flood around 201.18 Around the year 225 AD Christians acquired a piece of public property in a dispute with inn-keepers to build a church with the explicit blessing of Emperor Severus Alexander, who determined “that it was better for some sort of a god to be worshipped there than for the place to be handed to the keepers of an eating-house.”19
The pagan Porphyry (d. 305), writing in the second half of the third century, attacks the Christians who, in “imitating the erection of the temples, build very large houses,20 into which they go together and pray.”21
The Emperor Aurelian (d. 275) makes passing reference to a Christian church (Christianorum ecclesia) in contrast to his own religious temple (templo deorum omnia).22 Lactantius (d. 320) recounts the destruction of the church in Nicomedia, calling it a “lofty edifice” and describes how it was “situated on rising ground, within the view of the palace” and how the emperors Diocletian and Galerius could see it and debated whether to burn it to the ground or pull it down.23 It seems that, if the Emperor of the Roman Empire knew a Christian church when he saw one, it was no simple obscure house.
The Problem of Place
Despite the textual evidence that argues for significant church buildings before the age of Constantine, the dearth of archeological evidence for formal church buildings has seemed persuasive. With the recent discovery of a pre-Constantinian basilica at Aqaba it seems timely for liturgists and architects to reconsider the validity of the residential domus ecclesiae as a meaningful model for contemporary church architecture. The Aqaba church dates comfortably to 300, and perhaps as early as 280 AD Another basilican church, St. Georgeous in Rihab, Jordan, is preliminary dated to as early as 230 AD, with archeological evidence of a formal first-century church (c. 70 AD) beneath that ruin.24
We have limited knowledge of what pre-Constantinian churches generally looked like, but we can have certainty that Christians had special, purpose-built, urban-scale churches before the Emancipation in 313 AD. We should therefore reevaluate the claims about the “authenticity” of the simple house church as a meaningful architectural model for the Christian assembly both in the early Church and for today.
However, we should also consider the emotional appeal of the house church, which may seem enticing in the alienating condition of post-agrarian and post-industrial modern life. Both the massive scale of the modern city and the anonymity and placelessness of suburban sprawl contribute to the desire for a sense of domestic rootedness. Increased mobility in the modern work force and the consequent breakdown of traditional community and family life also create a tension and a desire for familiarity, welcome, and belonging in the parish community.
If these factors may contribute to the desire for a more domestic style for a parish church, it is a mistake to limit a church building to this functionalist view. Church architecture is necessarily symbolic, and the various metaphors by which we understand church buildings are derived from the metaphors by which we understand the Church.
These metaphors find their poignancy and potency in the human condition: matters of embodiment, relationship, dwelling, and community life form a matrix of symbols for the Church, the parish community, the liturgy, and church architecture. Among the most significant Scriptural images for the Ecclesia (and therefore the liturgy and the church building) are the Body of Christ, the nuptial relationship, the Tent of Dwelling/Temple of Solomon, and the Heavenly City.
These speak of the fundamental human experiences of embodiment, of marriage and domestic family life, of dwelling and habitation, and of social life.
This residential model of domus ecclesiae has been placed into a false opposition to the domus Dei as a model for sacred architecture. Both are models that find their validity in the human experience of dwelling and family life, but the former has come to imply an immanent expression of the home for the local community whereas only the latter has a transcendental and eschatological horizon that is more apt for sacramental buildings that are called to be “truly worthy and beautiful and be signs and symbols of heavenly realities.”25
The desire for a domestically scaled liturgical environment is not wrong per se, but it cannot stand in isolation without reference to the broader framework of ecclesiastical, liturgical, and architectural symbolism. All are needed for the person and the community to understand how the liturgy and the liturgical environment express and participate in a greater sacramental reality beyond the confines of the local assembly.
If the domestic model is not the sure foundation for church buildings, then all the arguments for rejecting the hierarchical and formal models of liturgy, for discarding the sacramental language of Christian architecture for a functionalist architectural approach, and for dismissing any appeals to the rich treasure trove of Catholic architectural history and historical styles will fall like a house of cards.
Notes
1 Pius X, Tra le Sollecitudini, November 22, 1903.
2 See for instance, Maurice Lavanoux, “Religious Art and Architecture Today,” in F. McManus, ed. The Revival of the Liturgy (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), 152-54.
3 Edward Mills, The Modern Church (London: The Architectural Press, 1956), 16. See also Mills, The Modern Factory (London: The Architectural Press, 1951).
4 Cf. Kevin Seasoltz, A Sense of the Sacred (London: Continuum, 2005), 95-98.
5 Richard Vosko, God’s House Is Our House: Re-Imagining the Environment for Worship (Collegeville MN: Liturgical Press, 2006), 22.
6 Edward A. Sovik, “The Place of Worship: Environment for Action,” in Mandus A. Egge, ed. Worship: Good News in Action (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1973), 98. Quoted in Mark A. Torgerson, An Architecture of Immanence: Architecture for Worship and Ministry Today (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2007), 152-53.
7 Vosko (2006): 27; Michael E. DeSanctis, Building from Belief: Advance, Retreat, and Compromise in the Remaking of Catholic Church Architecture (Collegeville MN: Liturgical Press, 2002), 30.
8 Joseph Rykwert, Church Building (London: Burns and Oates, 1966), 81.
9 H.A. Reinhold, The Dynamics of Liturgy (New York: Macmillan, 1961), 87.
10 H.A. Reinhold, Speaking of Liturgical Architecture (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1952), 13.
11 Louis Bouyer, Life and Liturgy (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1965), 7. Also Kevin Seasoltz The House of God: Sacred Art and Church Architecture (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), 110-114.
12 Reinhold, Speaking of Liturgical Architecture, 32.
13 Ps.-Clement, Recognitions. 10.71.
14 E.g., S. Lang, “A Few Suggestions Toward a New Solution of the Origin of the Early Christian Basilica,” Rivista di archeologia Christiana, 30 (1934): 189-208.
15 Cf. Kimberly Bowes, “Early Christian Archaeology: A State of the Field”, in Religious Compass 2/4 (2008): 575-619.
16 Katerina Sessa, “Domus Ecclesiae: Rethinking a Category of Ante Pacem Christian Space,” in Journal of Theological Studies, 60:1 (April 2009): 90-108.
17 Cf. Sources Syriaques. t.1, trans by A. Mignana (Mossoul: Imprimerie des Peres Dominicains, 1907). NB: Davies gives the dates even earlier as 123-136 in his The Origin and Development of Early Christian Church Architecture (London: SCM, 1952), 14.
18 Cf. Uwe Lang, Turning Towards the Lord (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2005), 67. Harnack makes note of this in his The Mission and Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries (London: Williams and Norgate, 1908).
19 Lampridius, Life of Severus Alexander, 2.49.
20 The Greek in Macarius is …, “they build very large buildings.” Porphyry distinguishes between these large buildings and residential houses, “their own houses,” in which they lived. In Ezra 4:1, the same construction is used specifically for the building of the Temple (…). There is no reason therefore to assume “oikos” meant a residential dwelling house, since it could be used for a house, any building, or a temple. Cf. Macarii Magnetis Quae Supersunt, ed. C. Blondel (Paris: Klincksieck, 1876), 201.
21 Porphyry, Adversus Christianos, known to us from the fragment addressed by the later Macarius in Apocriticus, 4. 21. Cf. T.W. Crafer, The Apocriticus of Macarius Magnes (London: SPCK, 1919), 146. Crafer notes that some took this passage as proof that Porphyry lived and wrote after the Emancipation, though he considers this argument weak. The conventional dates for Porphyry are c. 234 – c. 305.
22 Epistle of Aurelian, quoted in Joseph Bingham, Origines Ecclesiasticae (London: 1722), 8.1.1.
23 Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors, 12. Cf. The Ante-Nicene Fathers, VII, “Lactantius” (New York: Christian Literature Company, 1886). Lactantius uses the term editissimum to speak of the tall building, and notes the church was ex palatio videbatur.
24 The early third-century dating of St. Georgeous in Rihab is somewhat controversial. Another contender for a third-century church is the Christian prayer hall in Megiddo, Israel, which is not a basilica and found in the structure of a larger early third-century Roman villa.
25 General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 288.
***
Steven J. Schloeder, PhD, AIA is the founder of Liturgical Environs PC, an architectural firm specializing in Catholic church projects across the United States. He is the author of Architecture in Communion (San Francisco: Ignatius Press 1998), and many articles in scholarly and popular journals. He can be contacted at steve@liturgicalenvirons.com.
This article is based on a lecture delivered at Catholic University of America, and was first published in Sacred Architecture, Issue 21, 2012.
The Jesuit Church, Limerick
Praxiteles received the following press release earlier today:
Sacred Heart Church purchased by the Institute of Christ the King in
Limerick, IrelandWith the help of numerous friends from Ireland, the United States and
Continental Europe, the Church of the Sacred Heart at the Crescent in
Limerick, also known as the Jesuit Church after its first builders and
long-term occupants, was recently purchased by a young priestly
community called the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest. The
church and adjacent building, sold to a developer some years ago, had
stood vacant for six years and was in danger of falling into ruin.
Therefore many people from Limerick and other parts of Ireland were
happy to help this Institute bring the Church of the Sacred Heart and
its residence back to life.
A young community of members of the Institute of Christ the King will
very soon move into the attached residence in spite of its rather poor
condition, and the church will serve for the time being as its chapel.
With the permission of the Bishop of Limerick, the Institute of Christ
the King has had a residence in the diocese since 2009 and offers Mass
every Sunday in the Extraordinary Form at St. Patrick’s Church, whilst
also working in a few neighbouring dioceses.
Founded in 1990, the Institute is a Roman-Catholic Society of Apostolic
Life of Pontifical Right in canonical form. The 64 priests of the
Institute work all over the world to promote the spiritual Kingship of
Christ. A special emphasis is laid on the harmony between faith and
culture, and thus the young community has acquired a reputation for
promoting the arts, especially sacred music and architecture. This
experience will serve to restore the Church of the Sacred Heart to its
classical beauty and make it available once more as a point of reference
for the cultural life of Limerick.
The mother-house and international seminary of the Institute of Christ
the King is based in Florence, Italy, where 80 seminarians are training
for the priesthood and 21 religious sisters are especially devoted to
the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Among these are already several Irish
vocations. This young community has missions in Gabon (Africa) and
important apostolates in the United States, England, France, Spain,
Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, Germany and Sweden and naturally in Rome,
where their founder, Msgr. Gilles Wach, was ordained to the priesthood
by Blessed Pope John Paul. The provincial superior of the community in
Ireland is at present Msgr. Michael Schmitz, who was ordained a priest
by the present Holy Father, the then Cardinal Ratzinger.
The prior of the Church of the Sacred Heart is a 38 year-old priest,
Canon Wulfran Lebocq, choir-master of the Institute and permanently
resident in the diocese since 2010. For the time being, the community in
Limerick is composed of four members, whose average age is 32.
The Institute of Christ the King follows the spirituality of St. Francis
de Sales, which is expressed in the motto of the Institute: Live the
truth in charity, and could be summarised in the famous quote of the
Doctor of Charity: Cook the truth in charity until it tastes sweet. The
Canons of the Institute of Christ the King have a vast experience in
working with the young. Schools, youth camps, days of recollection,
musical training and many other activities are among the benefits they
are used to bringing to the places where they work.
In Limerick, the Institute of Christ the King, supported by many local
residents and a large group of friends in Ireland and abroad, intends to
restore the Church of the Sacred Heart to its original purpose as a
vibrant spiritual and cultural centre and a beautiful place of worship
through a dynamic and open community life as a spiritual family.
However, this will require a careful historical restoration before the
Church may be opened once again to the greater public.
The Institute of Christ the King celebrates the classical Roman Liturgy,
the Latin Mass, in its Extraordinary Form according to the liturgical
books promulgated by Blessed Pope John XXIII in 1962. This liturgy,
promoted by Blessed John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI in various
documents, attracts today an ever greater number of people, especially
young adults, students and families. The Institute is accustomed to see
a lively family of faithful in its churches and wishes to bring the
uplifting beauty of sacrality and genuine culture to all.
This beautiful church at the Crescent is still today a special
architectural jewel, and many deplored its closing and long-term
vacancy. The Institute of Christ the King, which has a special devotion
to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, truly desires to reopen this church for
the benefit of all, in close collaboration with the local civil and
ecclesiastical authorities. In this way, yet another sign of a brighter
future will again come alive in Limerick.
Those who would like to know more about this important project for
Limerick City can find further information either on their website
(http://www.institute-christ-king.ie) or by visiting the community at the
Crescent: Come and see!_______________
The former iconic Jesuit Church in Limerick, Ireland – up for sale – again!
http://www.limerickleader.ie/news/business/lim … suit_chu...
http://www.daft.ie/searchcommercial.daft?id=81592
The (former) Sacred Heart Church is situated at the Crescent, on O’Connell Street, Limerick. It was completed in 1868 and opened to the public on January 27 1869. The architect of this church was William Corbett and the church is in the parish of St Joseph’s. According to Murphy, it was originally intended to dedicate the church to St Aloysius but when it was dedicated in 1869 it was called the Church of the Sacred Heart. The façade of the church is Classical/Grecian in design. It was renovated in 1900. There are no aisles in the church but the nave has two rows of pews. The nave was extended in 1919.
As depicted in the photograph, the ceiling of the church is panelled with floriated ornaments in Stucco work. The high altar was designed by William Corbett and is made from 22 types of precious marble. On the floor around the high altar, there are the symbols of the four writers of the Gospels. The angel represents Matthew, the lion represents Mark while Luke and John are represented by the bull and eagle respectively.
Some of the stained glass windows throughout the church show the letters ‘IHS’. These letters are the first three letters of the Greek word for Jesus which is IHSOUS. In Latin the letters stand for Jesus hominum salvator which translates as ‘Jesus, Saviour of men’.
There are nine mosaics above the high altar. The central mosaic is of the Sacred Heart ascending in the presence of St Margaret Mary Alacoque and Blessed Claude la Colombiere. It is surrounded (from left to right) by depictions of St Francis Jerome, St Francis Borgia, St Francis Xavier, St Ignatius, St Stanislaus, St Aloysius, St John Berchmans and St Francis Regis.
The church formally closed in 2006.
Full set of images: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLzsQyztVuM
Longford Cathedral
The awful day is approaching when the liturgical fittings for the restored Cathedral in Longford must be chosen. And, surprise, surprise there was no surprise in what, apparently, has been proposed. Here we have more of the same old modernist jingo-jango plastered up with an off the wall liturgical “scholarship” right out of the 1960/1970s – a clear telling of just how stopped the clock is in Ireland. Needless to say, all this appears to be another version of Hacker Hurley’s attempts to “save the Second Vatican Council from the ashes” and equally out of step with much of the rest of the Catholic world. Presumably, this, or a variant, is what he would have done had he gotten his hands on Cobh Cathedral.
Here is an image of the proposal:
The first thing that strikes about this “solution” is the lack of any coherence between the “liturgical” elements and the rest of the building. The former have been concieved and executed without the slightest reference to the latter thereby rendering the former a complete alien in the latter.
Also, there is the problem of squares in rectangles: that awful looking podium in the middle of the nave. This again is another example of a complete disinterest in taking anything of the original design and function of the Cathedral into account. Rather than public worship -and what would you expect in a Cathedral- here we have the application of the domesticization of the liturgy in a very large and very public space to catastrophic effect. This is something like building a modern bungalow sitting-room in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles. Will someone ever tell those responsible for this nonsense that the day of the “domus ecclesiae” are well and truly over and the concept, for what it was ever worth, has no historical precedent or example in the Rome in which the Latin Rite emerged and developed. “Domus ecclesiae” is a 20th. century construct reflecting a liturgical romanticism one would expect to find in Disney Land.
If anyone were looking for justification of the (justiified) criticism made of the liturgical arrangements for the Eucharistic Congress in Dublin last June, then here we have it. I expect that this nonsense is another product from the same stable and begotten of the same winded nags who once grazed on the Woodstock common. For all their gufff about liturgy, they have written nothing of any significance or lasting value in terms of scholarship and are already obsolete. They are, and always were, third rate hacks propped up by a very dubious establishment.
Subjoined is the article accompanying the photograph as published on Clerical Whispers:
The St Mel’s Cathedral Project committee is hoping for work to begin on the structural aspects of the Cathedral restoration by the end of August, as plans for the new interior were lodged this week.
A structural contractor is expected to be appointed this week, with work to begin as soon as An Bord Pleanála rule on an appeal lodged against the granting of permission for works relating to the new roof and sub-floor.
As it stands, work has not been delayed on-site by the appeal lodged last April but Chairman of the St Mel’s Cathedral Project Committee Seamus Butler has said that if the decision from An Bord Pleanála is pushed out until late in the year, the project will ultimately be delayed.
This week, in a major step, St Mel’s Diocesan Trust applied to Longford Town Council for planning permission to redevelop the interior of the Cathedral, including a major redesign of the sanctuary area, as well as for the fitting of windows and the cleaning of external stonework.
The most striking aspect of this application includes plans for the redesign of the altar area, including relocating the tabernacle (where the Eucharist is held) to behind the altar. The baptismal font will now be relocated to the central aisle.
“The idea is that as people enter the Cathedral, the baptismal font will welcome them and lead them in the direction of the altar,” Mr Butler told the Leader.
Mr Butler said the re-arranged altar was in keeping with changes in the Church brought about by the Second Vatican Council.
“The re-ordering of the whole altar area is something that was always likely to happen, even if the fire hadn’t occurred. The altar will now extend into the nave, bringing the laity closer.”
The new organ, which is currently under construction in Italy, will also be located in the east transept and will be suspended between arches, if permission is granted.
In another change from the previous layout, the choir are set to be located on a tiered choir stall located in the east aisle, near the altar.
Seating numbers will also be slightly reduced due to the changes.
Prior to the Christmas Day fire in 2009, the Cathedral sat 1,100, with this number set to fall to just over 900.
PS: The slight reduction in seating is about 250 places, I am told.
Thanks Apelles for that most interesting informaton on Spanish wood/gesso statues. The exhibition in London last year did wonders to bring the quality of this workmanship to the attention of the wider public.
From the New Liturgical Movement
NEW CALVARY, BROMPTON ORATORY
by Fr. Anthony Symondson SJ
English converts once equated the Church with Baroque Catholicism. This impression was fostered by the Oratory of St Philip Neri, brought to Britain at Birmingham by Blessed John Henry Newman in 1848. In 1852 Fr F. W. Faber bought a plot of land in Brompton, then a semi-rural western suburb of London, and established the London Oratory. Earlier, when he had appalled Pugin as much as the Protestant Establishment by turning a dance hall at King William Street, Charing Cross, into a Classical Chapel richly embellished with Italianate church art, he brought full-blooded Continental Catholicism to London.
Second only to the Gothic Jesuit church in Farm Street, Mayfair (where converts imbibed Baroque spirituality), Brompton Oratory, as it is popularly, if erroneously, known, became a Mecca for rich and influential Victorian converts, and Henry Fitzalan Howard, 15th Duke of Norfolk, became a principle benefactor. This is reflected in the Northern Italian Baroque grandeur of Herbert Gribble’s great church, started in 1874 and sumptuously furnished with new and original Baroque furniture and sculpture, vestments and altar plate.
The Northern Italian character of the Oratory church has remained consistent until modern times. This has, however, been significantly broken by the installation of a new Calvary group with figures of Our Lady and St John, in the Spanish Baroque style, set within the chapel of Blessed John Henry Newman, situated beneath the organ gallery in the south aisle, behind the life-size, seated figure of St Peter. Traditionally this has been the place where a Calvary has been placed since the church was built but a fire in the 1950s destroyed the original crucifix and it was replaced by an austere substitute. The new chapel provided an opportunity to commission a new Calvary.
One of the principle art exhibitions in London in 2009-10 was the landmark The Sacred Made Real at the National Gallery of naturalistic Spanish sculpture and painting executed between 1600 and 1700. It presented a quest for realism of uncompromising zeal and genius which shocked the senses and stirred the soul as no other exhibition bar that of Southern German Rococo art mounted at the Royal Academy soon after the Second World War. Attending the exhibition was a religious as well as an aesthetic experience and one could not fail to notice the devotion and reverence of many Catholic visitors in the presence of these polychromatic (meaning many-coloured because they were painted) masterpieces. These works brought people to their knees and tears to their eyes, so affecting was their spiritual power.
The Sacred Made Real exhibition was mounted by Xavier Bray, the Senior Curator of the Dulwich Picture Gallery and a leading authority in Spanish Baroque art, and the Oratorians consulted him about commissioning the new Calvary at Brompton. A notable exhibit was a partly-executed modern Spanish Baroque figure of St John of the Cross made to show visitors the processes that went into making these images. This was executed by Darío Fernández, a young Spanish imaginero from Seville who continues to carve in the Baroque manner. His work is influenced by Juan de Mesa and Juan Martines Montañéz, the greatest Spanish Baroque sculptors. The sculpture and subdued painted surfaces, softened by varnish, of the Calvary are combined with spectacular force as good as the originals. When completed, it created a sensation when it was exhibited in Seville town hall.
In the classic Baroque style, the focus is on the person of Christ and the saints. The heightened realism of this group may shock because nothing like it has been done in this country for quite 100 years. That quality is intensified by the angular folds of the clothing of the figures which provide additional drive and vigour as well as depth of shadow. But is this merely religious kitsch or, still more, pastiche? Some critics regarded The Sacred Made Real exhibition as the grandfather of kitsch because of its lifelike, exaggerated fervour. But kitsch means worthless and pretentious and neither could be said of this Calvary group which is instinct with naturalistic religious feeling. Nor is it pastiche because it is part of a living sculptural tradition that uses the Baroque language of art which is indigenous in southern Spain. Its realism is the realism of the Gospels or the imaginative intensity of the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius Loyola that had a powerful influence on Spanish Baroque art.
The group is contained within a niche on the left of the chapel and the background is delicately painted on canvas with a distant view of Jerusalem flanked by trees beneath a clouded sky, executed by Alan Dodd, a muralist. Dodd has restored and decorated many of the noblest rooms and interiors in the country, often in trompe l’oeil, but here he has subordinated his work to the peace and strength of Fernandez’s Calvary and both are complementary. In this softly-lit, understated way polychromatic sculpture and painting are unified as a whole within an architectural setting.
Currently, major commissions for art are rare in Catholic church architecture in Britain. Exceptions are commissions for mosaics in Westminster Cathedral and the recent exemplary restoration of St Patrick’s, Soho. In recent years the Oratorians have made significant new additions to their London church and this Calvary group marks a milestone for being inspired by an outstanding exhibition and for maintaining the artistic tradition illuminated by it. It exemplifies the Holy Father’s emphasis on traditional Catholic art. Not only is the Calvary a work of art but also a powerful aid to devotion.
But, did Guffer Jones actually address any of the points raised by Mons. Wadsworth?
To the unsuspecting he seems to be gone off the point – again.The reponse:
‘Celebrity congress Mass’ criticism rejected
Date:
19 Jul 2012
Michael Kelly
An internationally known Church liturgist has criticised last month’s International Eucharistic Congress closing Mass saying it was in part ‘impossibly sentimental’ and had a ‘celebrity’ feel. The comments have been strongly rejected by organisers.
Msgr Andrew Wadsworth, head of the International Commission on English in the Liturgy(ICEL) – the group that advises bishops in the English-speaking world about liturgy – described the closing Mass of the congress as having “a sort of eighties feel to it”.
He told a gathering in the United States that “the improvements in liturgical culture and particularly the improvements in liturgical music, that have become increasingly evident throughout this Papacy, particularly in large-scale celebrations were sadly almost entirely absent from this occasion.
“If I were given to conspiracy theories, I would almost feel persuaded that this was a deliberately calculated attempt to broadcast a different message and to oppose the better liturgical spirit of recent times,” Msgr Wadsworth said.
He criticised what he described as a ‘celebrity spot’ during the distribution of Holy Communion where ‘The Priests’ sang “the impossibly sentimental song ‘May the road rise up to meet you’.”
However, Fr Paddy Jones, Director of the National Centre for Liturgy at Maynooth strongly rejected the criticism insisting that Msgr Wadsworth “may not know what these liturgies meant to the thousands who celebrated them at the Congress held at this time of renewal and healing in the Church in Ireland.”
Fr Jones said “there’s lots of loose language in his criticism of the closing Mass”.
Fr Kevin Doran, Secretary General for the IEC told The Irish Catholic he felt that Msgr Wadsworth’s “concerns have more to do with the Second Vatican Council than with the Eucharistic Congress.
“The Congress simply happens to be a convenient target for him,” Fr Doran said.
Englishman Msgr Wadsworth also criticised the fact that there was not more Latin used during the Mass, a criticism rejected by Fr Doran: “while Latin is the ‘official’ language of the liturgy, most people pray the Mass in the vernacular”.
Msgr Wadsworth said “the entire liturgy had a ‘performance’ quality to it, with the assembly as the principal focus. This was borne out by the fact that musical items were frequently greeted with applause”.
However, Fr Jones rejected this caricature pointing out that “there was applause, loudest during the Papal Legate’s homily, at the end of Pope Benedict’s message and at the end of the Mass, not an indication of ‘performance,’ but the congregation’s sincere response to what was taking place in their midst”.
Fr Jones described the criticism as “unhelpful and unfair and not reflecting what those who were there are saying”.
Msgr. Wadsworth’s Address to the Church Music Association of America, Colloquium XXII
The Reform of the Roman Rite
When I am in Rome, I hear very little these days about the ‘reform of the reform’ – it just isn’t within the arena of most people’s awareness. In matters liturgical, if anything, we see something of a polarization and many people seem to have a vested interest in promoting this. Happily, not everyone is of this view and I would like this evening to concentrate on one such person whose view, fortunately for us, will be decisive. I refer to the Holy Father. Just ten days ago, he addressed these thoughts to those gathered in Dublin for the 50th International Eucharistic Congress:
The Congress also occurs at a time when the Church throughout the world is preparing to celebrate the Year of Faith to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the start of the Second Vatican Council, an event which launched the most extensive renewal of the Roman Rite ever known. Based upon a deepening appreciation of the sources of the liturgy, the Council promoted the full and active participation of the faithful in the Eucharistic sacrifice. At our distance today from the Council Fathers’ expressed desires regarding liturgical renewal, and in the light of the universal Church’s experience in the intervening period, it is clear that a great deal has been achieved; but it is equally clear that there have been many misunderstandings and irregularities. The renewal of external forms, desired by the Council Fathers, was intended to make it easier to enter into the inner depth of the mystery. Its true purpose was to lead people to a personal encounter with the Lord, present in the Eucharist, and thus with the living God, so that through this contact with Christ’s love, the love of his brothers and sisters for one another might also grow. Yet not infrequently, the revision of liturgical forms has remained at an external level, and “active participation” has been confused with external activity. Hence much still remains to be done on the path of real liturgical renewal.
[Pope Benedict XVI – Video Message at the Closing Mass of the 50th International Eucharistic Congress, Dublin June 17th, 2012]
During our brief time together, I propose to reflect with you on a few themes taken from this single recent utterance of the Holy Father, as I believe it is highly representative of his thought in relation to this all-important consideration. The Holy Father said that:
1. “the Second Vatican Council, an event which launched the most extensive renewal of the Roman Rite ever known
Very few people could have foreseen the wholesale revision of the liturgy which would come in the wake of the Second Vatican Council and certainly few could foresee that the unifiying experience of a Latin liturgy would become entirely alien to most Catholics born in the last third of the twentieth century. The unchangeable nature of this characteristic of the Liturgy was a view largely shared by Blessed John Henry Newman, Mgr Robert Hugh Benson, Mgr Ronald Knox and, until the liturgical reform happened, also by Archbishop Fulton Sheen. Commentators such as Fr Joseph Gelineau SJ, composer of the famous psalm tones, went as far as to say “the Roman Rite, as we knew it, has been destroyed”!
The factors which fed into the liturgical reform after the Council were complex and in some ways, not entirely contemporary. I think we must admit that until relatively recently there has been very little scholarship that is able to accurately identify the sources of the liturgical reform. In some cases, the scholarly opinions upon which some decisions were based does not stand the test of time. We must hope that scholarly commentary which unravels some of the mystery surrounding the making of the new liturgy becomes more readily available in the near future.
Whether or not we have any scholarly insight, many of us have lived in the Church through this period and have thereby accumulated a vast reservoir of experiences which for good or ill shape our perceptions in relation to the liturgy and guide our expectations when we consider what we would hope to find when we come to worship God in the liturgy. While there is a sort of commonality to these observations across a wide spectrum of liturgical preference, it goes without saying that whether something is considered desirable or not will largely depend on your view of what the liturgy is meant to achieve. I have come to the view that there is little agreement in this important matter and many people proceed on what is essentially a privatized view of something which is by definition common property.
In his address to the Eucharistic Congress, the Holy Father said:
2. “a great deal has been achieved”
Obviously, there have been some very positive developments in the wake of the liturgical reforms that followed Vatican II. Among them, I would cite:
– The liturgies of the Sacred Triduum, largely unknown to a previous generation, have now become the liturgical heart of the year for most Catholics.
– The Liturgy of the Hours, previously largely limited to the clergy, has become more genuinely the Prayer of the Church in the experience of both religious and lay people.
– A wider selection of lections in the Mass and all the Sacramental Rites has strengthened the idea that Scripture is part of the primitive liturgical κήρυγμα.
– In those places where the principles of the liturgical movement have been applied to music, there is a greater appreciation of the various functions of music in different elements of the liturgy.
– The revision of the rites of Christian Initiation has led to a greater understanding of Baptism as the foundational fact of our ecclesial identity.
– Where provision has been made for individual Confession, there has been a return to the centrality of the Sacrament of Penance in the personal journey of conversion.
– The renewal of the Rite of the Worship of the Blessed Eucharist outside Mass has facilitated (if not quite inspired) the widespread adoption of Eucharistic Adoration as a standard element of parish life and as an important means of engendering private prayer.
On this recent occasion, the Holy Father
3. ‘it is equally clear that there have been many misunderstandings and irregularities”
– A sense of the communion of the Church has become limited to local communities that are in many ways self-selecting – many Catholics have a poor understanding of what it means to belong to the Universal Church but a highly developed understanding of what it means to belong to a self-selecting parish community of people like themselves.
– Any notion of the shape of the Liturgical year has been greatly lessened by an ironing-out of those features which characterized the distinctive seasons of the year.
– The universal tendency to ignore sung propers and to substitute non-liturgical alternatives.
– The transference of Solemnities which are holydays of obligation to Sundays destroys the internal dynamics of the liturgical cycle e.g. The Epiphany and The Ascension.
– The frequent tendency to gloss or paraphrase the liturgical texts, supplying continuous commentary, has contributed to an improvised or spontaneous character in much liturgical celebration.
– The multiplication of liturgical ‘ministries’ has led to considerable confusion and error concerning the relationship between the ministerial priesthood and the common priesthood of the baptized.
– The liturgy often seems to have the quality of a performance with the priest and liturgical ministers cast in the roles of performers and behaving accordingly. Consequently, congregations are often expecting to be ‘entertained’ rather as spectators might be at a theatre.
– The manner of the distribution and reception of Holy Communion (including the appropriateness of one’s reception of Communion at a particular Mass) has led to a casual disregard for this great Sacrament.
– A proliferation of Communion Services presided over by lay people has resulted in a lessening of the sense of the importance of the Eucharistic sacrifice.
– The appalling banality of much liturgical music and the lack of any true liturgical spirit in the use of music in the liturgy has been a primary generating force in anti-liturgical culture.
The Holy Father then went on to say that:
4. “not infrequently, the revision of liturgical forms has remained at an external level, and “active participation” has been confused with external activity”
In my view, this is the very crux of the matter and I would like to illustrate it with reference to the Mass at which Pope Benedict’s remarks were heard – the closing Mass of the recent Eucharistic Congress in Dublin. The improvements in liturgical culture and particularly the improvements in liturgical music, that have become increasingly evident throughout this papacy, particularly in large-scale celebrations were sadly almost entirely absent from this occasion, giving the event a sort of ‘eighties’ feel to it. More specifically:– the entire liturgy had a ‘performance’ quality to it, with the assembly as the principal focus. This was borne out by the fact that musicial items were frequently greeted with applause.
– There was a frequent disregard for the provisions of the GIRM. This was particularly evident with reference to music:
+ None of the antiphons of the proper were sung for the entrance, offertory and communion processions (cf GIRM #40)
+ Gregorian Chant was conspicuous by its absence (cf GIRM #41). None of the Missal chants was used for the people’s parts of the Order of Mass (with the single exceptions of the gospel and preface dialogues), even though the liturgy was predominantly in English and these chants would have been known by most people present.
+ In the Profession of Faith, after the Cardinal celebrant had intoned Credo III, lectors read the Apostles’ Creed (which has a different intonation to the Nicene Creed) in a variety of languages, spoken paragraphs were punctuated by the sung response ‘Credo, Amen!” This is not recognizably one of the modes for the Creed described in the GIRM (cf GIRM #48).
+ Much music did not ‘correspond to the spirit of the liturgical action’ [GIRM #41] such as the celebrity spot during the distribution of Holy Communion of 3 clerical tenors, ‘The Priests’, singing the impossibly sentimental song “May the road rise up to meet you”. I feel like asking, just what is wrong with the Communion antiphon and psalm?
+ Despite the international character of the occasion, the use of Latin in the people’s sung parts was almost non-existant (cf GIRM #41).
The depressing cumulative effect of the disregard for all these principles in a major liturgy, celebrated by a papal legate, and broadcast throughout the world, is hard to underestimate. If I were given to conspiracy theories, I would almost feel persuaded that this was a deliberately calculated attempt to broadcast a different message and to oppose the better liturgical spirit of recent times. But surely it cannot be so?
I think we have to ask such questions and indeed to surmise that the influence of former barons of the liturgical establishment has found a new and conspicuous arena of activity in which to model their example of poor liturgy. There can be no talk of the reform of the Roman Rite until the GIRM is enforced as the minimum requirement. If it remains a largely fantasy text at the beginning of our altar missals then ‘the rebuilding of the broken down city’ will take a very long time.
The Holy Father then concluded by stating that:
5. “much still remains to be done on the path of real liturgical renewal”
We must conclude by agreeing with the Holy Father – there is much to be done and happily a week like this one is a prophetic sign of the new liturgical road map – where we are going and how we are going to do it! In an attempt to engender on-going improvement in the quality of our liturgy, and in the hope that Catholics will be able to encounter a liturgy that is self-evidently expressive of our liturgical tradition and conveys a sense of something larger than the purely local, in a highly personal view, I would identify the following as desirable characteristics of the liturgy of the future:
– A sense of reverence for the text: the unity of the Roman Rite is now essentially a textual unity. The Church permits a certain latitude in the interpretation of the norms that govern the celebration of the liturgy and hence our unity is essentially textual: we use the same prayers and meditate on the same Scriptures. This is more clearly evident now with a single English text for universal use.
– A greater willingness to heed Sacrosanctum concilium rather than continual recourse to the rather nebulous concept of the ‘spirit of the Council’ which generally attempts to legitimize liturgical abuses rather than correct them. Currently, these teachings are more likely to be evidenced in a well prepared presentation of the Extraordinary Form than in most Ordinary Form celebrations. It need not be so.
– In relation to both forms of the Roman Rite, a careful attention to the demands of the calendar and the norms which govern the celebration of the liturgy, not assuming that it is possible or acceptable to depart from these norms.
– A re-reading of the encyclical Mediator Dei of Pope Pius XII in conjunction with more recent Magisterial documents. In this way, the light of tradition might be perceived to shine on all our liturgical celebrations.
– The widespread cultivation of a dignified and reverent liturgy that evidences careful preparation and respect for its constituent elements in accordance with the liturgical norms.
– A recovery of the Latin tradition of the Roman Rite that enables us to continue to present elements of our liturgical patrimony from the earliest centuries with understanding. This necessarily requires a far more enthusiastic and widespread commitment to the teaching and learning of Latin in order that the linguistic culture required for interpreting our texts and chants may be more widely experienced and our patrimony enjoy a wider constituency.
– We should seek to see the exclusion of all music from the Liturgy which does not a ‘liturgical voice’, regardless of style.
– The exclusion from the liturgy of music which only expresses secular culture and which is ill-suited to the demands of the liturgy. A renaissance of interest in and use of chant in both Latin and English as a recognition that this form of music should enjoy ‘first place’ in our liturgy and all other musical forms are suitable for liturgical use to the extent that they share in the characteristics of chant.
– An avoidance of the idea that music is the sole consideration in the liturgy, the music is a vehicle for the liturgy not the other way around!
– A commitment to the celebration and teaching of the ars celebrandi of both forms of the Roman Rite, so that all priests can perceive more readily how the light of tradition shines on our liturgical life and how this might be communicated more effectively to our people.
– A clearer distinction between devotions, non-liturgical forms of prayer and the Sacred Liturgy. A lack of any proper liturgical sense has led to a proliferation of devotions as an alternative vehicle for popular fervour. This was a widespread criticism of the liturgy before the Council and we now have to ask ourselves why the same lacuna has been identified in the newer liturgical forms.
– A far greater commitment to silence before, during and after the Liturgy is needed.
Having travelled the English-speaking world very widely in preparation for the implementation of the English translation of the third typical edition of the Missale Romanum, and having experienced the liturgy in a wide variety of circumstances and styles, I would conclude that I have generally encountered a great desire for change, although not always among those who are directly responsible for the liturgy. I think we are currently well placed to respond to this desire and this is evidenced by the fact that many things which were indicated fifty years ago, such as the singing of the Mass, and more particularly the singing of the proper texts rather than the endless substitution of songs and hymns, are only now being seriously considered and implemented. It is earnestly to be desired that such developments continue to flourish and that an improved liturgical culture is accessible to everyone in the Church.
Crucial to this peaceful revolution has been the leadership and example of the present Holy Father who has consistently studied and written about the liturgy in a long life of scholarship which now informs his governance of the Church’s liturgical life. Much that he commends was already evident in aspects of liturgical scholarship from the early twentieth century onwards. In our own time, however, it is finally being received with the joy and enthusiasm that it merits. A new generation of Catholics eagerly awaits a greater experience of the basic truth that the liturgy is always a gift which we receive from the Church rather than make for ourselves. The Church Music Association of America and all those who identify with its initiatives and benefit from its prophetic lead have a very serious and a highly significant contribution to make to this process. May God bless us all as we share in his work.Some more examples of church hangings: SS. Michele e Gaetano in Florence
http://www.icrsp.org/IMAGES-APOSTOLATS/Images-2012/Gricigliano/Paramenti-San-Michele/Paramenti.htm
Perhaps it should be put in context. In liturgical studies at present there is a certain trend of thought which greatly estimates the oriental (Greek, Russian, Malanchar, Malabarese, Coptic) rites and continually seeks to import disparate and incoherent bits and pieces from those rites into to the Roman or Latin rite.
While it has to be admitted that the general principles underlying all the Church’s liturgical traditions are ultimately the same, it must however be acknowledged that these have deleloped differently over the last two milennia and have been moulded by differing cultural traditions. For better or worse, we are plank bang in the middle of the Latin tradition and consequently have some responsibility to ensure its further hgistorical progress and its protection from the dabblings of do gooders who, instead of contenting themselves with arranging flower pots, have taken to decorating Latin things with Oriental bits and pieces which have lost their true liturgical significance once uprooted from their context. An example: in the Western tradition the Bishop when vesting wears the pectoral cross under the chasuble – the garment which symbolizes charity and which is put on over all other garments echoing St Paul. Have you noticed recently the very idiotic practice of some western bishops wearing pectoral crosses over the chasuble? WHere did this come from? We were told (rather unconvincingly) the Ambrosian Rite but in fact it is a cheap take on the Oriental vesture of Bishops who wear pectorals extrovertly.
Considering the painting of Crucifixion scenes in 13 and 14 century Umbria and Siena, we have another situation – oriental influences on Franciscan themes. It seems to me that the photographs in the posting above reflect the products of that Franciscan school of central Italy rather than Oriental models.
It has to be remembered that icons -with the exception of El Greco’ early work and perhaps some of the Franciscan central Italian school- do not belong to the Latin tradition and reflect a different devotional and liturgical practice, history and approach.
Praxiteles does not subscribe to the idea of mixing oriental and western details in liturgical art. The Latin RIte has its own tradition which is perfectly respectibile and urgently requires attention to save it from total catastrophe.
€212k grant will help to keep cathedral open
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Funding has been released for vital emergency conservation works that will help keep the doors of a landmark cathedral open.
The Government sanctioned a special €212,000 grant for St Fin Barre’s Cathedral in Cork as part of a €717,000 package to support the conservation and protection of important heritage buildings across Ireland.
Heritage Minister Jimmy Deenihan said the special allocation for the iconic cathedral recognised its international architectural and heritage importance.
Dean Nigel Dunne said he was delighted.
“This is absolutely brilliant to get that sort of grant in the current economic climate. It will help us keep the doors open,” he said.
“We were getting to the stage where we were considering closing off certain areas for health and safety reasons.”
The emergency works, which are expected to start immediately, will include:
* Urgent repairs to secure two gargoyles at risk of falling from the building;
* Internal conservation measures to the north and south transepts, and external conservation measures to the western front, the main entrance to the cathedral;
* Work on the Dean’s Chapel;
* Repairs to internal stone work and plastering over the organ pit, where €1.2m is being spent installing a new instrument.
The works to the north transept will allow essential repairs to be carried out on the internal stonework and plaster to eliminate the risk to the new organ of dust and falling debris. Up to 35kg of dust was removed from the old organ pit.
The cathedral still has to find matching fundraising and is planning a series of events this year.
Another €500,000 is being allocated to assist with works to safeguard at-risk structures in 41 projects across 27 local authorities.
Other Cork structures to benefit from the fund include Shandon Tower and Alms House in Glanmire.
The Big Count Down Has Begun
The Count Down Has Begun
Late 19th century Church Interiors
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[This picture shows Holy Trinity in Cork as the famous Gothic portico is being built]Alabaster Shrine of St John the Baptist
by Fr Lawrence Lew, O.P.
This very fine portable shrine dates to the 15th century, and it was carved in Nottingham from alabaster. Throughout the Middle Ages, Nottingham was a great centre of alabaster carving, and pieces such as this for private devotion, or other panels for church retables were exported throughout Christendom. Many were destroyed after the Reformation, and this complete domestic shrine is exceptionally rare. It is thought to be one of only five that survive in the world.
The central alabaster panel shows the head of St John the Baptist surrounded by six saints. Four of the saints are named on the painted wooden wings: St James the Greater, St Catherine of Alexandria on the left, and on the right, St Anthony of Egypt (decapitated) and St Margaret of Antioch. The remaining saints standing in the forefront are St Peter (on the left) and an unidentified sainted archbishop, possibly St Thomas of Canterbury. Beneath the head of the Baptist is an image of the Man of Sorrows rising from the Tomb, and above is the soul of St John the Baptist being taken into heavenly glory by two angels.
[New Liturgical Movement]
Guffer Jones gets Sun stroke:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=tfzjI9SV8Ck
Taking a politician unawares
MICHAEL PARSONS
Eucharistic Congress art was big in 1932 and the late Justin Keating was a model for the infant Jesus
THIS WEEK’S International Eucharistic Congress in Dublin has prompted recollections of the 31st congress held in the city 80 years ago. One forgotten legacy is the art created to celebrate and commemorate the event in 1932, which reflected the widespread fervour, and deep Catholic faith, of the vast majority of the population at the time.
Among the paintings made that year was Our Lady, Queen of Ireland by artist Leo Whelan, which was commissioned by Dublin’s Gill family – owners of the publishing company, which later became Gill and Macmillan.
The model for the Blessed Virgin was Sally Deale and the child used to depict the infant Jesus was Justin Keating, the son of Whelan’s fellow-artist, Seán Keating. In later life, Justin Keating became a Labour Party minister in the 1970s government of Liam Cosgrave.
In 1979, Sally Deale’s son, Julian, approached the Gill family to try to buy the painting – in memory of his late mother – but it was not for sale.
A few months later, he said, “Unfortunately this painting was destroyed in a fire,” when the Gill premises on O’Connell Street burnt down.
Although the original painting was lost, art historian Geraldine Molloy, who researched the work of Leo Whelan for a thesis, said prints of the painting had been made and sold to the public in the 1930s – and some have survived. According to the Catholic Bulletin, a framed print was presented to Pope Pius XI in the Vatican in 1934 and the artist was praised for depicting the “Madonna”, for the first time, with “Gaelic features”.
Separately, the Haverty Trust, an Irish family bequest established to fund religious art, commissioned three paintings – all depicting the life of St Patrick – from leading Irish artists of the era. The paintings were displayed during the Congress in 1932.
St Patrick Climbs Croagh Patrick, by Margaret Clarke, was later presented to the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin.
St Patrick Lights the Paschal Fire at Slane, by Seán Keating, was donated to the Irish College in Rome where it still hangs. The rector Fr Ciarán O’Carroll said, “An Post used the painting for the St Patrick’s Day stamp in 2006.”
The third painting, The Baptism by St Patrick of Ethna the Fair and Fedelmia the Ruddy, Daughters of the Ard Rí Laoghaire, was made by Leo Whelan. The artist has suffered a double whammy as this work is also lost.
However, unlike the fate suffered by his Our Lady, Queen of Ireland it is believed that the Baptism by St Patrick painting has survived although its current location is unknown.
The painting is understood to have been presented to an Irish institution abroad in the 1930s. Does anyone know where it is?
from The Irish Times
