Many people are quite familiar with the diminutive devotional paperback prayer pamphlet with the pious picture of Michelangelo’s Pieta which leads off with the (sometimes simultaneously) inspirational and infamous Magnificent Fifteen Prayers of Saint Bridget of Sweden. Of course any contentious controversy can be quietly and quickly definitively dispelled by flipping open a convenient copy of the Acta Apostolicae Sedis and looking up the following Monitum from the Congregation of the Holy Office: In aliquibus locis divulgatum est opusculum quoddam, cui titulus “SECRETUM FELICITATIS – Quindecim orationes a Domino S. Birgittae in ecclesia S. Pauli, Romae, revelatae”, Niceae ad Varum (et alibi), variis linguis editum. Cum vero in eodem libello asseratur S. Birgittae quasdam promissiones a Deo fuisse factas, de quarum origine supernaturali nullo modo constat, caveant Ordinarii locorum ne licentiam concedant edendi vel denuo impremendi opuscula vel scripta quae praedictas promissiones continent. Datum Romae, ex Aedibus S. Officii, die 28 Ianuarii 1954.

Those of you who follow this blog will have noted the ever increasing number of Traditional Masses celebrated throughout the greater New York area. And not only Masses: vesper services, pilgrimages, conferences – it is an ever expanding list. Made possible by Summorum Pontificum, this revival of Catholic Tradition, achieved through so many individual initiatives and sacrifices, continues its slow but steady growth.  The masses and other “events” directly sponsored by our Society are necessarily limited; to a great extent we report what others will be doing.  We are grateful to all our correspondents for the information you share with us – we hope that through our postings the news of your initiatives reaches a much wider audience.  We would, however, like to point out a few steps that will be of aid to our readers.

First, you should let us know of events as early as possible – but certainly earlier than the evening before the day the mass or conference is to take place. Some of our correspondents provide the information for a posting well in advance of the event and then request a follow-up posting in the days immediately before it. That is a sensible approach.

Second, if the liturgy is not in the “Extraordinary Form” that should be very clearly specified. This blog is intended to support the Traditional liturgy. Not that we will not report on other liturgical initiatives as requested and as appropriate. But again, as service to our readers, we ask that any liturgy not in the Extraordinary Form be very precisely described. In one situation this year, an advertised Traditional liturgy turned out to be the Ordinary Form. In another, what seemed to me to be a clear posting was nevertheless the subject of considerable confusion as to which form would be used.

Third, at the risk of launching an army of disruptive photographers, I strongly recommend sending in a follow–up report – with pictures if possible.  This is especially helpful for major liturgies or for initiatives in new locations. Readers would like to see and hear about events that may have taken place in their own backyard.

Enough said on these administrative matters – I look forward to your reports on the ever-growing Traditionalist “Scene“in our region!

Tomorrow, Saturday, October 6th, 2012, at 1 PM, there will be a Solemn Mass at the Church of the Holy Innocents, New York.

The Celebrant of the Mass will be Fr. Jean-Marie Moreau, Canon of the Institute of Christ the King.   Canon Moreau will be offering the mass in thanksgiving for the 20th anniversary of his ordination to the priesthood.  The Mass will be a votive Mass of Jesus Christ, High and Eternal Priest, and the Te Deum will be sung at the end. After the Mass, there will be a small reception in the church hall.

Vigil of Reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Immaculate Heart of Mary on Friday, October 5 at St. Peter Church in Hartford, CT. The Vigil begins with the traditional Latin (low) Mass of the Sacred Heart at 7:00 pm followed by Rosary, Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament and Benediction closing with the traditional Latin (low) Mass of the Immaculate Heart of Mary at 12:00 Midnight.  Location: 160 Main St., Hartford, CT 06106

This Monday, October 8, an Extraordinary Form Mass will be offered at St. Mary’s Church in Norwalk, Ct to celebrate Columbus Day.  After Mass there will be a procession down West Ave. to the Columbus memorial.  The winner of the Columbus Day essay contest will read his or her essay.

Traditional Priestly Ordination of Deacon Gregory Bartholomew, FSSP
This Saturday, October 6, 2012, will mark a special occasion as Rev. Mr. Gregory Bartholomew, FSSP is ordained to the sacred priesthood. The traditional ordination Mass will take place in St. Paul’s Church in Clifton at 11:00 a.m. and all are invited to attend the liturgy. The celebrant will be Bishop Serratelli. The following day the newly ordained Father will celebrate his first Mass for the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary at St. Michael’s Church in Scranton, PA at 10:15 a.m. Afterwards, there will be a rosary procession through the streets of Scranton.

Ordination details:
Date: Saturday, October 6, 2012
Time: 11:00 a.m.
Location:
St. Paul’s Church
231 Second Street
Clifton, New Jersey 07011

First Mass details:
Date: Sunday, October 7, 2012
Time: 10:15 a.m.
Location:
St. Michael the Archangel Catholic Church
1703 Jackson St.
Scranton, PA 18504

A very Art Nouveau Madonna over the main entrance to the former school.

All Saints
East 129th Street and Madison Avenue

Those who have the misfortune to make the daily commute on Metro North have undoubtedly noticed a strange open church tower – remarkably high and slender – as the train approaches 125th Street. A few blocks from the station, in a quiet section of Harlem, the inquisitive visitor finds an extraordinary sight: a vast church in polychromed brick, seemingly transplanted from Venice , Siena or Lombardy. It is the Catholic parish of All Saints, one of the last masterpieces of James Renwick, Jr., the architect of St. Patrick and Grace Church.

James Renwick was obviously the leading light of the High Victorian era in Catholic Church architecture and this was the last achievement of that age. But All Saints, begun in 1883 and finished in 1893, also stands at the beginning of the “golden age” (1890-1925) of Catholic Church architecture in New York, in which a new spirit of creativity and artistic sophistication – as well as a lot more money, generally speaking – is evident. Renwick’s amazing Venetian exterior takes full advantage of the fact that All Saints occupies a corner lot on Madison. Most Catholic churches in Manhattan exhibit only one facade while the rest of the church remains imprisoned by surrounding construction. But All Saints is gloriously unencumbered by neighboring buildings, and every inch of the exterior is covered by ornamentation in polychromed (in reds and browns) brick and terra cotta. There are porches, niches, tracery and a whole series of rose windows in the clerestory. And not only that – the rectory, built contemporaneously, is a miniature Venetian palace!  The school too, built in 1902, continues the Gothic theme in a slightly simpler style.  All Saints – originally just one of the mainstream “Irish” parishes of the Archdiocese – thus forms a vast stylistically unified complex of buildings uniquely elaborate among Catholic parishes in New York. 1)

You may be dazzled by the sheer scale of decoration, but closer inspection reveals sad evidence of neglect. Niches stand empty, weeds grow out of cracks and signs of damage to windows and stonework abound. A picture of this church in 1913 reveals seemingly innumerable spires and finials that have since disappeared. 2) Most noticeably, the main tower has lost its spire and louvers, giving it its present unusual silhouette.

The rectory – the interior is anything but a palace after years of neglect.

Perhaps the most elabrately decorated parochial school in New York. It closed as recently as 2011.

Entering All Saints, our visitor may feel a bit of a letdown. The overflowing abundance of the exterior details has somehow awakened expectations of a correspondingly vast interior, yet All Saints is of no more than average size for a New York parish. A closer look, however,  reveals that the interior of All Saints is  largely a smaller scale version of St. Patrick’s Cathedral! Renwick has merely enclosed the French/English/German Gothic of St. Patrick’s in a new,  entirely different, Italian Gothic shell. We can see why All Saints sometimes is called the St. Patrick’s of Harlem. One pauses to admire the architectural details of the nave and transept which are of a very high order. Only the execution of the apse/sanctuary is in a somewhat simplified and summary style compared to its counterpart in St. Patrick’s.

There is much else to see. First, All Saints boasts the finest pews I have ever seen in a Catholic church in this country – in the Gothic style, elaborately carved and finished. Second the stained glass windows – much of them non-figurative – are of extraordinary quality. The colors – blue, crimson, green and yallow are of startling intensity. The large number of rose windows offers a series of beautiful color combinations. Third, there are remarkable remnants of the the original paint scheme of the church. We are primarily talking here about the ceiling with its intricate stencilling. Those whose knowledge of Victorian church interiors is restricted to the several restorations currently going on in Fairfield County,  Connecticut will be amazed when they encounter the real thing.

The greatest set of pews in New York – intricately carved openwork wooden masterpieces! (above and below)

Comparatively little of the sculptural decoration of the interior survives – here a fine station of the cross.

The architectural details are very fine.

In contrast, the decoration of the sanctuary and of the side altars – to the extent it has survived – is of lesser interest. Very little original statuary still exists. The main altar remains intact, however, it is not that successful as a work of art. All Saints, aside from the magnificent pews, presents a somewhat barren appearance on the ground floor. Moreover, the interior, apart from the ceiling, was repainted some 15 years ago in a drab beige. The same paint job has been applied to the organ pipes, which at one time were also elaborately painted. All this “restoration” was the handiwork of a “crazy nun” according to one of the parishioners here. I should add that several of the people with whom I spoke  displayed a knowledge of their parish’s history, art and architecture far exceeding almost anything I have heard from those who frequent the far wealthier parishes of suburbia.

The painted decoration of the apse is more conventional and representative of 19th century parishes. Over the main altar is a not very well executed copy of Rubens’ Deposition in the Antwerp cathedral.

The intact high altar features angels holding not candles, but clusters of electric light bulbs. This undoubtedly pre-World War I feature shows that the artistic efforts of the past were not necessarily always successful…

Not all the glass of All Saints exhibits the same originality. In contrast to most of the other windows, this a German import – windows based on the same composition can be encountered in several other churches in the NY area.

The magnificent facade rose of All Saints.

Windows with the coat of arms of Archbishop Corrigan (1885-1902)in the center.

These windows resemble the work of John LaFarge – if so, they must be quite valuable!

One of the many rose windows of All Saints.

Parishes in Connecticut suburbs are spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to restore or recreate their Victorian interior decoration; yet an original, even more elaborate decoration survives intact to this day on the ceiling of All Saints.

The work of the “crazy nun.”  Only in the choir loft (in the center of this picture) does the original color scheme of the church walls survive; the walls (right)and the organ pipes (left), also once elabrately painted, are now covered in faceless beige paint.

Despite all the “demographic changes” (an Archdiocesan buzzword) in this area, All Saints continued as a flourishing parish, with overflow crowds. What had been an Irish parish became overwhelmingly black. But only in the the last few decades did the parish fall on hard times. The church and the rectory were no longer maintained. Some renovation work that was done, as we have seen, was disastrous. It did not help either that two or three drug rehabilitation centers were relocated to the immediate vicinity. All Saints school was closed in 2011 after operating over 100 years.

But a devoted group of parishioners soldiered on. A revival may be underway now. Former residents of the neighborhood have been coming back to services at All Saints, spurred by rumors of a closing. A Spanish mass has been started. The Church received landmark designation in 2007. One has to admire the efforts of a congregation which proudly considers itself  “working class” – a rarity in the United States these days – in maintaining such a huge edifice with so little money (and so little outside support). I can only suggest that adding the regular celebration of the Traditional Mass – in  a magnificent setting specifically designed for it .  It would go along way in bringing back once again the overflow congregations that an architectural masterpiece like All Saints surely deserves.

1) E. Willensky and N. White, The AIA Guide to New York City ( Harcourt  Brace Jovanovich, New York, 3rd Editon, 1988) at 444-445; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_Saints_Church_(New_York_City)

2) The Catholic Church in the United States of America: Volume 3 (New York City: The Catholic Editing Company, 1914), p.309

Father Richard Cipolla preached the following sermon at the Solemn Mass offered at the Shrine of St. Frances Xavier Cabrini in Manhattan on Sept. 22.

September Ember Saturday/Mother Cabrini    22 Sept 2012

From the fourth lesson from the prophet Zecharia:  These then are the things which you shall do: Speak the truth every one to his neighbor; judge truth and judgment of peace in your gates; and let none of you imagine evil in your hearts against his friend.

How many present here know the origin of the Japanese word, tempura?  This word has come into the English language and is well known especially to those who like fried shrimp: shrimp tempura.  It is not a secret but a fact not well known that this word in its Latin form was introduced to the Japanese by Portuguese Jesuit missionaries in the context of the Mass we are celebrating today, today being Ember Saturday in September, otherwise known as Quattuor Anni Tempora, the four times of the year.  These days were and are, at least in the Extraordinary Form of the Roman rite, days of abstinence.  And so the Portuguese Jesuits, to help their converts plan meals that were meatless, introduced them to fried shrimp, to be eaten during the Quattuor Tempora, and the Japanese still call shrimp fried in a batter, tempura, from Tempora. 

Most here, but more than most Catholics,  do not know that the Ember Days go back to at least the fourth century in the Church, and that Pope Leo believed they were of apostolic origin.  They occur four times in the year: after St Lucy’s Day in December, after Ash Wednesday, after Pentecost, and after the Feast of the Holy Cross in September.  The Ember Days are always on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. And if you look at when they occur, you see that they come at the beginning of the natural seasons of the year: autumn, winter, spring and summer.  These wonderful days marked a pause in the year, when the natural calendar and the Church calendar, paused to take stock of the present and to look forward to the future and invoke God in behalf of the spiritual life of the individual and beseeching the Almighty that the physical needs of the men and women of the world would be met, praying for things like good weather, a good harvest, justice and peace.  And if you look at the prayers and readings for this Ember Day Mass, you will see all of these elements come together.  The Ember Days were also associated with prayers for vocations and as a time for ordinations:  after the Kyrie the Tonsure was conferred; after the first lesson, the door-keepers are ordained; after the second, the readers; after the third, the exorcists; after the fourth, the acolytes; after the fifth, the subdeacons; after the epistle, the deacons; and before the last verse of the Tract, the priests.   

One of the tragedies of the post-Conciliar time of the Church is the disappearance of the Ember Days.  As part of the liturgical reform, the Ember Days were suppressed, but Pope Paul VI asked that the bishops of each country encourage the celebration of Masses during the year that would echo the themes of the Ember Days.  He also lifted the requirement of abstinence for these days.  But the fact is that once a custom grounded in Tradition is made optional or left to the judgment of a local church, that custom disappears.  In retrospect, we can see that at the very time when Catholics, faced with an increasingly secular culture,  needed these four times in the year to fast and pray in the rhythm of the Church year and the year of nature to remind themselves of who they are and what is ultimately important,  the Ember Days were removed from the universal calendar in the name of reform.  Surely the loss of Catholic identity that is a mark of this present time is in part due to the removal and suppression of those very ways, liturgically and naturally, that are reminders to Catholics of who they are and to what they are called.  It is a great blessing that we come here today and celebrate this Saturday Ember Day in this shrine church.

And we do so in the presence of the mortal remains of una santa grande, a great saint, Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini.  She heard these readings every year at Mass, and surely they resonated with her and her mission.  Jesus’ healing miracle in the gospel must have struck her in a special way, she for whom faith and good works were inseparable.  Like all great saints, Mother Cabrini understood that faith is not something that is held close and put into a lovely box to look at when the mood strikes.  She thought she had a calling to the religious life early on in Italy, but because of her poor health, she was refused.  So she went to run an orphanage in Lombardia, and it was there that she drew other women around her and founded the beginnings of what she envisaged as a missionary institute and what would eventually become the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart.   Perhaps somewhat romantically, she dreamed of a missionary effort in China.  But in her meeting with the great Pope Leo XIII, she heard from him those words oft quoted:  Not to the East, Sister, but to the West.  For the Pope was acutely aware of the dire need for a ministry to the hundreds of thousands of Italian immigrants who came to the United States to escape the poverty and the turmoil of their life in Italy, especially in the poverty stricken southern part of Italy.  They came here not knowing the language, strangers in a foreign land, looked down upon, unsure of their faith in a Protestant country, subject to proselytizing by those taking advantage of their ignorance and poverty.  And so Mother Cabrini came to New York, hoping to found an orphanage for Italian immigrant children.  Cardinal Corrigan told her that it was not opportune to do what she wanted to do and told her to return to Italy.  But Mother Cabrini did not return to Italy and stayed in Manhattan and ministered in a remarkable way to the Italian immigrants, and she ministered to them not only spiritually but in practical ways: in housing, in education, in gaining employment.  She was a realist and this realism came from her Catholic faith:  she said:  When one works for the glory of God, then His works are subjected to violence. This is why I am never surprised when I meet opposition in my ventures. In fact, I look upon them as good signs. For to whatever degree I am confronted by opposition or violence, that is the measure of how much I succeeded I glorifying the Divine Majesty”. 

Mother Cabrini was not just another woman who did much good among the poor and dispossessed.  Her holiness came from her faith that compelled her to do what she did.  This is what our age does not understand.  Contrary to the New York Times, it does matter for a Catholic religious whether he or she is at one with the teaching of the Church, for without this unity of mind, heart and spirit with the Church,  good works performed are not what they should be:  pointers to the love of God in Jesus Christ, without which all good works are in vain.  What drove her was her love for Christ. She said:  I will go anywhere and do anything in order to communicate the love of Jesus to those who do not know Him or who have forgotten Him.  And she brought Christ to the poor not only in New York, but in Chicago and Denver and Louisiana and California, and yes, even to New Jersey.  And even to Argentina and Brazil and Nicaragua: wherever there were poor immigrants, she ministered to them in the name of Christ.

Mother Cabrini loved this country and its people deeply and became an American citizen and became the first American citizen to be canonized.  We must remember this as well:  the Mass we celebrate here today was the Mass that Mother Cabrini knew and loved, it is the Mass that was at the heart of her life as a Catholic and religious, it is the Mass that strengthened her and enabled her to do the remarkable things she did, it is the Mass  to which she brought back so many immigrants who had fallen away.  We ask the intercession today of Mother Cabrini:  that the Traditional Mass may bring back to the Church the many who have drifted away from the faith, that the Traditional Mass may once again be the light that shines in the darkness, the antidote to the grey secularism of our time that threatens faith itself, that more and more young priests may be brought to the beauty and truth of this Mass and so be transformed spiritually just as the bread and wine are transformed at this Mass into the Body and Blood of Christ.  And finally we address her, she who is present with us at this Mass with all the angels and saints in that language that was hers from her birth, that language of art and music, quella lingua la più bella del mondo. Madre Cabrini, prega per la Chiesa Cattolica.  Aiuta il nostro Papa, Benedetto, che abbia corraggio, fede, e santità.  O Santa Francesca Savero, prega che la messa tradizionale può rinnovare la Chiesa e riscaldare il cuore dei suoi fedeli. Prega per tutti noi, che possiamo portare l’amore di Cristo in un mondo che ha dimenticato che cos’è l’amore.

This past Saturday our Society sponsored the first mass of the year. A small but dedicated group of pilgrims from all over the greater New York area gathered at the shrine of Mother Cabrini located in the northernmost tip of Manhattan. The weather could not have been more beautiful. Father Richard Cipolla was the celebrant; Rev. Mr. Stephen Genovese was deacon and Fr. Christopher Salvatore SAC subdeacon. The staff of the shrine – which is unfortunately less well known than it should be – were extremely welcoming.

This mass marked the return of the Traditional Mass to the Shrine of St. Frances Cabrini for the first time in many decades. But most of the original furnishings from the 1950’s – including the “modern” altar rail(above) – remain intact and ready for use. Note the inscribed (Traditional)formula for the distribution of communion.

Just as remarkable was the specific liturgy: that of Ember Saturday in September. That provided for 5 additional Old Testament lessons (above) chanted by the master of ceremonies, Will Haffey, along with the  proper chants and the hymn of the children in the fiery furnace from the Book of Daniel. David Hughes led the schola.  The acoustics of the Shrine proved excellent.

Fr. Cipolla gave a memorable sermon – in English and Italian.

New York City Transit operates approximately 4,500 buses in revenue service. Each year as rolling stock ages out over an average twelve year life span, the agency purchases between 300-400 new buses to refresh the fleet. With such large parameters the Transit Authority prudentially probes various vehicular varieties. A few years ago for thirty days on the hard-boiled streets of the Big Apple on a route that is a successor to the fabled Third Avenue Elevated of yore was field tested one of the more popular bus models of Europe. Its model series alphanumerical designation is O530 and its brand name is Citaro. Its manufacturer is Mercedes-Benz.

Now that would have given new meaning to the phrase, “I’m waiting for my Mercedes”!

As any amateur aficionado of automotive avocation will attest to, the appellation derives from the affection of an Austrian aristocrat, Emil Jellineck. At the threshold of the twentieth century, in order to promote among the higher eschelons of society the powerful products of the Daimler Motoren-Gesellschaft, Jellineck entered the nascent automotive race meets under the sobriquet “Monsieur Mercedes”. He borrowed the name from his beloved daughter who was born in 1889.

This last segue of course leads us the pious purpose of this e-pistle which is the origin of the popular Spanish girls’ name Mercedes. Thanks to our good friends at the University of Dayton: The story of Our Lady of Ransom is, at its outset, that of Saint Peter Nolasco, born in Languedoc about 1189. He conceived the idea of establishing a religious order for the redemption of captives seized by the Moors on the seas and in Spain itself; they were being cruelly tormented in their African prisons to make them deny their faith. On August 1, 1218 the Blessed Virgin appeared to Saint Peter, to his confessor, Raymund of Peñafort, and to King James I, and through these three servants of God established a work of the most perfect charity, the redemption of captives. Its members would undertake to deliver Christian captives and offer themselves, if necessary, as payment. Word of the apparition soon spread over the entire kingdom, and on August 10 the king went to the cathedral for a Mass celebrated by the bishop of Barcelona during which Saint Raymund narrated his vision with admirable eloquence and fervor. The king besought the blessing of the bishop for the heaven-sent plan, and the bishop bestowed the habit on Saint Peter, who emitted the solemn vow to give himself as a hostage if necessary. The Order, thus solemnly established in Spain, was approved by Gregory IX under the name of Our Lady of Mercy and spread rapidly. Eventually a feast day was instituted and observed on September 24, first in the religious order, then in Spain and France, and on February 22, 1696 Innocent XII extended it to the entire Church. To this day, the Mercedarians keep this day as a first class feast, with a vigil, privileged octave, and proper Office under the title: Solemnitas Descensionis B. Mariæ V. de Mercede.

Our Lady of Ransom is the principal patron of Barcelona; the proper Office was extended to Barcelona (1868) and to all Spain (second class, 1883). Sicily, which had suffered so much from the Saracens, took up the old date of the feast (Sunday nearest to August 1) by permission of the Congregation of Rites of August 31, 1805. In England the devotion to Our Lady of Ransom was revived in modern times to obtain the rescue of England as Our Lady’s Dowry.

Something to meditate upon while you’re fiddling with your metrocard waiting for the apparently inconsiderately inconveniencing delayed bus!

Mr. Screwtape