The Sts. Gregory and Romanos Guild

In the Extraordinary Form calendar, this past Sunday was Quinquagesima, for which the appointed communion antiphon is this first-mode gem:

They ate, and were satisfied in abundance, and the Lord gave them all that they craved: they were not cheated of their desire.

The text is adapted from Ps 78(79):29. This particular Psalm is a long exhortation to Israel recounting their history of suffering and redemption, sin and repentance, and God’s justice and mercy, written to instruct future generations “that they should not be like their fathers, a stubborn and rebellious generation, a generation whose heart was not steadfast, whose spirit was not faithful to God” (v. 8). As adapted for this antiphon, verse 29 is entirely appropriate as a meditation while receiving the Eucharist, and at first blush it seems wholly consolatory.

That impression is tested when one reads the next few verses of the Psalm:

[30] But before they had sated their craving,
while the food was still in their mouths,
[31] the anger of God rose against them
and he slew the strongest of them,
and laid low the picked men of Israel.
[32] In spite of all this they still sinned;
despite his wonders they did not believe.
…
[36] But they flattered him with their mouths;
they lied to him with their tongues.
[37] Their heart was not steadfast toward him;
they were not true to his covenant.
[38] Yet he, being compassionate,
forgave their iniquity,
and did not destroy them;
he restrained his anger often,
and did not stir up all his wrath.
[39] He remembered that they were but flesh,
a wind that passes and comes not again. (RSV)

There is consolation there, yes, but also a rebuke to our waywardness. Our points for meditation are twofold: first, the Eucharist, which is Christ himself, is that which we crave, which satisfies us in abundance when we eat it, and our God who loves us has not cheated us of our desire. Second, on the threshold of Lent, we recall that we have still sinned, disbelieving despite God’s wonders, flattering him with our mouths and not remaining true to his covenant, yet God is compassionate to us and forgives our iniquity when we turn back to him.

These two streams of reflection meet in the discipline of fasting we are about to embrace, in which our denial of earthly food is meant to remind us of our dependence on our daily and supersubstantial bread, the Bread of Life. Let us thus end in consolation, as the God whom we desire has promised to accompany us on our way, and he keeps his promises.

My mother-in-law died at the end of May. She had been ill for many years and was haunted by the memory of things for which she blamed herself, and perhaps by other things for which she was not at fault, but suffered nonetheless. One of her last requests was for a funeral in the Extraordinary Form, and thanks to the generosity of Fr. Scott Archer, Fr. Matthew Deptula, and Msgr. Stanley Deptula, she was buried with the full ceremony of the usus antiquior.

I had sung for many funerals before, but never one in the EF, and while I had the Mass pretty much under control, the burial service was almost entirely new to me. The first responsory at the Absolution quickly became my favorite piece as I practiced:

The mix of terror and hope, the dread in apprehension of the Latter Day mingled with the consolation that the souls of the just are in the hand of God (Wisdom 3:1), seemed to me an appropriate prayer, something that my mother-in-law and I would be comfortable praying together.

Today we pray for all the faithful departed, and that is fitting and just, but if you could spare an extra prayer for Mary Ann Zeilenga, I would be grateful.

Save me, O Lord, from everlasting death, in that dreadful day when the heavens and the earth shall be shaken, when thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.

V. I tremble and am sore afraid at the judgment and the wrath to come,
R. When the heavens and the earth shall be shaken.

V. That day, that day of wrath, of woe, and of misery, that great and most bitter day,
R. When thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.

V. Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord: and may perpetual light shine upon them.

Save me, O Lord, etc.

In my last post I mentioned that my family sings chant as part of our everyday prayer, specifically grace before meals. It’s not the only bit of chant I’ve incorporated into the daily round; we also sing the prayer to one’s Guardian Angel, using the tune for the hymn at Vespers during early Advent, Conditor alme siderum.

The idea is not original to me, coming rather from an old children’s activity book my wife had when she was a girl. I like that the meter of the prayer lets us use a hymn tune rather than one of the liturgical recitative formulas, thus adding a bit of variety.

In case you don’t like gathering around a warm computer to pray (doesn’t everyone? :) ), here’s a PDF for printing it off.

Notre Dame’s Church Life Journal blog has an interesting article on how chant makes the liturgy friendlier for children:

Why Chant is Good for Children

A couple passages are worth noting in particular:

Music in the Roman Rite functions seemingly as an interlude to the actual work of liturgical praise. It’s like, “Hey, it’s getting wordy, let’s sing something to give people a break. Now back to the reading. We’re worshiping God!”

Last Sunday, we went to the Melkite Liturgy on campus. […] Despite our son’s lack of familiarity with the words on the page, he hummed along the entire time (sometimes even during the Eucharistic Prayer). With his slight speech delay, with his limited grasp of understanding of English, the chant allowed him to participate in the Eucharistic sacrifice in a way that he rarely experiences.

I have seen the same behavior out of my children in similar contexts. My mom regularly attends Divine Liturgy at a Ukrainian Greek Catholic parish, despite my family belonging to the Latin Rite, and my children find the chant and ceremony of the Byzantine liturgy as enthralling as Mr. O’Malley’s son did. Likewise, my kids have a great deal of trouble staying focused in the midst of the wordiness of the modern Roman rite. They have certainly improved as they have gotten older and gained greater skill with language, but proper liturgical music still involves them more deeply than any amount of speaking can.

The kids’ behavior when they were younger prompted my wife to postulate the Toddler Test for Good Liturgy: if the liturgy bores the toddlers, you’re doing it wrong.

Outside of Mass, chant is great for involving children in devotional prayer as well. At my house we often pray what we call “Solemn High Grace” before meals, chanted in Latin, with the final Sign of the Cross in Ukrainian because Grandma’s church is cool, and my kids love it. It goes something like this:

A PDF is also available for making printed copies, should you want to try it with your family.