To those of us in the know, "My heart goes out to you" - or in German "Heil Hitler!" - is a code phrase meaning "We are ready to annex Canada, Panama, Greenland, and Poland." Don't be fooled by its appearance in a pro-life context. If you need more proof, look at this message from that well-known fascist King Charles III in the guise of condolences for the recent air crash in Washington.
An opportunity to chat.
It's very dull coming in to an EF Mass just before the start. You will normally find the church in total silence, with people praying, meditating, who knows what? Come to a jolly NO service, and we have none of that! A steady buzz of conversation - gossip, rumours, quarrels, chat about what people did last week, the shops, ... this is how it would have been like in Biblical times, when Jesus could hardly get a word in edgeways because of chatter about the price of fish, the latest rumours about Judas Iscariot's beach house, and the discomfort of the seats at the Last Supper.
Waiting for the priest to arrive.
The vernacular.
Go to an EF Mass and it's all in Latin, and even if you go a hundred times you will never be able to understand a single word of it. But go to Scotland, to France, to Poland, to Samoa, and you will find that everyone speaks Vernacular, as Vatican II told them to! Don't worry, you'll soon learn the Hungarian for "Lead us not into temptation", or "Let us not fall into temptation", or "Oooh, don't tempt me!" or whatever the Pope would like us to say this week.
No kneeling.
Well, there is some kneeling, but you can usually avoid it. After all, the Pope does. All postures are welcome. In France they stand up and block your view at the Elevation of the Host. In the Vatican they sprawl on cushions sniffing cocaine - well, some of them do. You can stand, sit, kneel, hop around on one leg, wave your hands in the air... drawing attention to yourself as a particularly holy person is very popular (I think it started with the Baptists).
Marty Haugen lets rip.
The hymns.
Oh, Gregorian chant is so boring! It may have meaningful words, dignified music, and a general air of sanctity... but, admit it, wouldn't you rather have "I am the Lord of the Dance," or "Gather us in," or even "Shine, Jesus, Shine" - all good quality sources of spiritual nourishment where the words may be heretical, banal, and boring, but they are at least the sort of songs you can sing when totally blotto (even if you may have difficulty when sober)?
Clowns, puppets, and balloons.
These are not a compulsory part of the Novus Ordo Mass (except in parts of Germany and Austria), but they are certainly a popular feature. When did you last see a priest holding up a Kermit the Frog puppet when giving a general Absolution? I think I've made my point.
We also recommend liturgical dancing.
The Grope of Peace.
The Novus Ordo Mass is so tactile. Cuddle your neighbour, pinch her backside, or - for neighbours you aren't so keen on - give him a hearty kick in the ankle. This week's top score at St Tharg's is 36 Signs of Peace - this took brother Bosco about ten minutes to complete. Admittedly, he's now facing charges of assault, grievous bodily harm, and manslaughter (how was he to know that Sister Dominatrix would have a heart attack?) but it's all Biblical, innit?
The Communion.
Kneeling down and receiving on the tongue are so rigid. Sidle up and grab the Host from the priest. Use the standard Vatican II liturgical response "Thanks, Daddy-o" rather than a silent "Amen". Do not cross yourself. Look! As with all these rituals, just do it whichever way you want. God doesn't expect our reverence, our sincerity, or even - these days - that anyone believes in Him. Ask the Bishop!
Some people like a Latin Mass: they say, "Credo for me!" Or for bonny Agnus Dei, they'd lay them down and dee. Such means of praise and worship do seem old and rather crass, To the priest... ... yes, and the deacon... ... in a very modern Mass! Sing Alleluia! Ch-ch! Sing Alleluia! Ch-ch! When you are sitting in our church, the coolest place in town, You'll see the priest processing in, dressed as a jolly clown. He greets the congregation with "Hey folks! This is a gas!" In a swinging sixties, Novus Ordo, Liberal and progressive modern Mass.
The Gospel reading
We start off with some dancing girls, for in our litur-gy We take out all the holy bits and shout "Hey! Look at me!" So let's have wild cavorting now from every lad and lass In an all-inclusive, Tablet-sponsored, swinging sixties, Novus Ordo, liberal and progressive modern Mass. This is a transport of delight. Of delight! Walk in delight! Walk in delight! This is a transport of delight. Walk in delight! Walk walk walk walk walk in delight!
... your right arm in, and shake it all about...
We now bring on our puppet friends, to help us with our prayer: For who can say that Mass is not improved by Fozzie Bear? Those nasty traddy Catholics were faced with an impasse! The priest is putting on a show, The deacon is Pinocchio In the all-inclusive, Tablet-sponsored, Swinging sixties, Novus Ordo, Liberal and progressive modern Mass.
A solemn moment in our devotions.
We don't have moral standards now - that really is too tame! Since Vatican the Second, things just haven't been the same. We praise gay rights, abortion, women priests, divorce - it's clear That Jesus, Peter and St Paul had simply no idea! Our secular religion they may say is a "morass". We don't believe in Heaven or Hell, And really, that is just as well, For the priest is putting on a show, The deacon is Pinocchio In the all-inclusive, Tablet-sponsored, Swinging sixties, Novus Ordo, Liberal and progressive, Liberal and progressive modern Mass! Sing Alleluia! Ch-ch!
Now, can you please form an orderly queue?
In many EF Masses I have attended, people pile out of the pews, knocking over the weak and feeble, so as to be first up to kneel at the altar rail. This wouldn't work in an OF Mass, for, as likely as not, there is no rail, just the priest and a helper - maybe a deacon, or, if he's indisposed, an old lady - standing in front of the altar. If you rush up to the front you may well knock over the old lady, and this is a BAD THING. If you bump into the deacon he'll probably flatten you.
So probably, "aeroplane etiquette" is safest. The people from the front pews step into the aisle first - this may well include the organist, the guitarist and the girl with the out-of-tune flute - and then people come up, a pew at a time. (Of course things work slightly differently if the aeroplane happens to be on fire.) Usually you will end up tripping over the hand-luggage of anyone who chooses to stay in their pew at this time.
Please don't all rush up at once.
In busy and disorderly masses, there may be several places where you can receive - random helpers will loiter in various corners of the church and, in the confusion, you may find yourself offered the Cup before the Body. I have not been able to find out whether it is a sin to accept, but try not to do it, anyway.
If you are used to kneeling and receiving Communion on the tongue, then forget it. Apparently, Vatican II was very keen on stopping this practice. Kneeling is out. Give it another ten years, and genuflection will be out too - the custom will simply be to give a little skip as we face the altar.
Probably, there'll be a hymn sung while you receive. If the organist starts too soon, it'll be a solo from him; if he leaves it too late, then it will probably continue until well after Communion is over, and the priest may be obliged to come across and force him to stop.
And now for verse 37!
Well, that was the most sacred moment in the Mass, and deserves to be treated with respect. On the other hand, you may be lucky enough to have a South American bishop present, and then you can be sure that things will go with a swing.
Getting down with the "yoof".
Surrounded by 8 neighbours - but which do I greet first?
Our hearts sink as we reach the point where the priest tells us to offer each other the sign of peace. The first step is to decide on the order in which we are going to harass our neighbours - during the sermon is usually a good time to make a little diagram like the one above, and prepare a batting order. Probably you should start with the lady on your left, but don't hug her too hard or she'll call you names. Then the seedy-looking chap on your right.
The nature of the physical contact allowed will depend on the church, but KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON. If you're wearing any, of course.
Be warned that the man behind you will probably thump you if you leave him too late. I'd avoid the chap with the big teeth altogether, personally.
A typical kiss of peace.
Appropriate forms of greeting:
Peace be with you! Pax tecum! Peace!
Pax, Man! - an acceptable greeting in some churches.
Inappropriate forms of greeting:
Peace off! If you wish pacific communication with me, kindly arrange it through my solicitor. After you've cut down that tree which is blocking my light. Hello, cheeky!In most churches use a simple "Peace be with you, peace be with you, peace be with you, I've done you already, haven't I?" and, for those who are too far away to reach, a "Mwah!" or a sheepish grin will do.
A pious Catholic demonstrates the Vatican-II recommended "grin of peace".
This is the third instalment of our guide to some of the delightful things you may expect to see in the Ordinary Form Mass. It's time for the Liturgy of the Word, and today we're sending all the children out into the church hall so that they can receive their own instruction, while the grown-ups get a slightly more advanced version.
This Sunday we have the story of St Peter in prison, so the little darlings are going to draw a picture of him.
St Peter in prison, by Phil Evans (age 6).
For the grown-ups we have three readings, concluding with the Gospel, and then we come to the most exciting bit of all, the homily or sermon. Settle down, now, and let's see what spiritual delights are on offer.
I think I'll turn my hearing aid off now.
Now there are three options for the homily, and you may experience any of these.
1. The Bishop's Letter. Once a month +Fred sends out a letter to be read by all parishes. Bishops are often quite intelligent people, so this may be the best option - but if you're unlucky it will be about +Fred's holiday at the seaside: "I was walking along the beach at Hunstanton, and I thought of Jesus, who also used to go to the seaside, although it was at Galilee, and they didn't have seaside rock and donkey rides."
The Sea of Galilee - no candy floss available.
More likely, the bishop will impress you with his learning. "I was reminded of the words of Chesterton, who quoted Aquinas as pointing out that St Matthew had reported Our Lord as saying 'Lo! The people have no candy floss.'..."
2. The priest makes up a homily himself. This can be very good, or it can be very bad. At least if he's reading his own words the priest won't roll his eyes and talk in a silly voice.
3. Worst of all, you may just get: "One of our parishioners, Antonia Flannery, has recently been to India for three months, helping in a hospital there, and she's going to tell us of her experiences."
So Antonia tells you all about the hardships in Indian hospitals, where they don't have all the NHS facilities such as managers, equality and diversity coordinators, health and safety officers, etc. and have to make do with doctors and nurses.
Oh good, Antonia's going to show us her holiday snaps.
Antonia went to Mass in India, but it was in Tamil so she didn't understand much. Do NOT at this point shout out "Why didn't you go to a Latin Mass?"
All too soon, the homily is over, we say the Creed (Nicene if there's time, Apostles' if the priest thinks we're running late). There's a bit in the book about bowing when we talk about the Incarnation; don't do that, as you'll probably be the only one, and people will look at you wondering whether you've just had a heart attack.
Well, that's about it for the Liturgy of the Word, so let's welcome back the children with their pictures of St Peter in prison.
Now, Daryl, how did St Peter get out of prison? DID HE DIG A TUNNEL? No, Daryl, try again. Didn't God send someone to rescue him? OH YES I SAW THAT, IT WAS MISSION IMPOSSIBLE. ST JOHN PUT ON A RUBBER FACE MASK AND IMPERSONATED THE GUARD. No, Daryl you imbecile. You weren't paying attention.
Mission Impossible - St Andrew infiltrates the prison.
Eventually, you do get some meaningful responses from the children, and the Mass continues. More next time.
The story so far: although more used to the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, our students are learning about the Ordinary Form. As today's lesson starts we are about to embark on the act of penitence. So far the church is not very full, because those who aren't sinners haven't yet bothered to show up.
At this stage, late-comers are probably outside, liturgically parking the car.
For those who got there on time, the chances are that you will say a prayer starting: I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned.
Note that in the earlier English translation of the Missal (undertaken by a distinguished team of scholars including Basil Loftus and a man who owned a Latin dictionary with only a few pages missing), the greatly wasn't present; that's because people didn't sin so much in those days. The new translation also adds through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault, and you are supposed to beat your breast, perhaps three times.
Mea maxima culpa! How to beat your breast.
Actually, it seems that most people don't bother to do the breast-beating thing. If you are holding a baby, then it's probably a dangerous thing to attempt, but your sins may well be forgiven, all the same.
If you're lucky you will also get a sung version of this: Lord have mercy. Kyrie Eleison. If you're less lucky it will be accompanied by a man on an electric organ, a spotty teenager with a guitar, and an old man playing some sort of recorder. This is to encourage you to cry out for mercy.
Lord have mercy!
Well, that's over, the remaining stragglers have now turned up, usually squashing into the most crowded pews, and we are ready for the Gloria: Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will. In the earlier translation Lofty's pals got this wrong - possibly because some of them were not people of good will - and it came out as ...and peace to His people on earth.
"On earth" was also deemed to include astronauts.
The Gloria, as re-translated by Arthur Roche and co, is now very similar to its Latin equivalent; however, the congregation are nowadays encouraged to use some of the time in consulting their mobile phones, texting friends, etc. This is so that they don't do it during the Liturgy of the Word.
Before that, we may be invited to participate in a moment of silent prayer. Do it quickly, since after about 0.0001 seconds the priest will rush into the Collect. We'll discuss the Bible readings next time.
At the next stage the lector does not need to be a priest.
Following the 1960s Vatican II reforms, the Cricketic Church introduced a Novus Ordo form of its service, which upset many traditionalist worshippers.
Novus Ordo cricket. Note the unusual liturgical vestments.
In the Tridentine form of the service (named after the Council of Trent Bridge), worship was often not deemed to be completed until a "testing" period of 5 days of prayer (or Quinquena) had elapsed.
Father Shepherd knew the correct liturgical gestures.
Typically, the prayers varied over the five days, perhaps along the following lines:
Day 1: Australia batting well. A prayer that the Lord may aid his servants Anderson, Swann, and the other bowlers. Day 2: Australia declares: Ite. Inningus est, and England bats. A prayer that the Lord may sustain Cook, Trott, and the other batsmen. Day 3: England batting collapses (this is traditional). Readings from the book of Job. Day 4: Australia bats again. A prayer for rain. Day 5: England, set 947 to win, manage 111 all out. A requiem mass for English cricket, including the burning of bails. Ashes to ashes...
The veneration of relics is an important part of the Tridentine game.
However, in the Novus Ordo service, some of the dignity and reverence shown in the Tridentine form simply disappeared. The wise theological advice, dig thou in, lad, just stay there for a few days, don't try to score any runs, found in the Gospel of St Geoffrey of Boycott, was replaced by an undignified scramble, as the whole service was rushed through in a matter of hours.
Liturgical dancing - what next?
Still there are hopeful signs for the future, as the Tridentine form of the game is still permitted, and a new generation of worshippers is favouring it. Curiously, some of the Latin terminology used in the older form of the game persists, and even the Novus Ordo service includes phrases such as Howzat? (Latin for "Hath he not transgressed?")
The Lord's temple - pavilioned in splendour and girded with praise.
Finally, whether or not they prefer the Ordinary Form or the Extraordinary Form of the game, Cricketics everywhere will treasure the words of Ezekiel 41:24: And in the two doors on both sides were two little doors, which were folded within each other: for there were two wickets on both sides of the doors.
St Geoffrey of Boycott smites the ungodly.
Most of you will be used to a traditional Latin Mass (some, indeed, swear by the Sarum Rite and find the Tridentine chaps a little too modern), so the idea is to let you know what to expect if you stumble into a NO Mass by mistake.
Men do it too... prepare for the Mass by catching up on your gossip.
Now, when you go into church for an EF Mass, you expect the congregation to be praying reverently, in total silence. For a NO Mass, the liturgy says that you should gossip with your neighbour until the priest arrives (which is sometimes as part of an impressive procession, involving deacons, altar servers, liturgical dancers, late-comers, people wanting their farm animals blessed, and so forth).
Sorry, Father, I couldn't get a babysitter.
Now, what should you gossip about? The Missal is somewhat vague on this point, but here are some good opening lines:
1. I'm going to be taken off the sex-offenders register next week, you know. 2. Ugh, you sneezed! Have you got some loathsome disease? 3. I heard that the deacon called you a skonk. What's a skonk? 4. Warm today, isn't it? But then it was cold yesterday. I blame that carbon dioxide stuff. Have you got any in your garden? 5. Oh, is that a baby you're holding? I was going to give it some peanuts. 6. Let me finish this cheeseburger, and then we can have a good natter.
Excitement mounts as the priest leaves the vestry.
Well, in the NO it is quite usual to start with a hymn. Nothing written before 1965 is acceptable, but Shine, shine in the Light, or I the Lord of Kum Bah will do nicely. Then the singing stops, the altar-servers pick their noses (boys) or do their make-up (girls), and the priest is ready to speak!
Kaixo eta ongietorri gure Igande goizean meza!
Oh yes, I forgot to mention that the Mass will be in the local tongue of the people (in this case, Basque). If you are lucky, the Missal will contain a parallel translation into Latin, but don't count on it.
Je ne regrette rien - the French version of the Act of Penitence.
Well, in the second instalment, we'll explain how to get through the bit that many people avoid by coming in late - the bit where we admit that we might possibly have sinned. Not seriously, of course. No worse than that horrible woman two rows in front. But a little bit. Maybe.
Continued in Part 2.
Our team of highly-skilled mechanics ready to give you the 1962 "Roman Rite" Service
For those requiring the traditional motoring experience, we offer the 1962 "Roman Rite" service. Your car will be asperged with holy water, and we make sure that only the highest quality oil is used. Our mechanics will sing solemn Gregorian chants as they lovingly restore your car to full spiritual health.
Asperges me, Domine, hyssopo et mundabor. Lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor.
Your Novus Ordo team
Or like many adolescents of all ages, you may want to be more hip, dude, and go for the Novus Ordo service, especially if you've got a really sporty car with go-faster stripes on it and a nodding-god in the window. This is a truly radical service for your car, and we'll throw all the old bits into the liturgy bin.
The radiator's leaking holy water. I'm afraid it's going to cost you, Guv.
The truly professional mechanics always wear white overalls
Of course, there are other denominations who might service your car. This is one alternative that we found by shopping around.
The "Palm Sunday" service
