Liturgical Beauty in Practice

[The Liturgist]

I want to have an open ended discussion with members of Traditional Theology who have a strong connection to, or are priests, deacons or readers/lectors/psaltis in, liturgical or semi-liturgical churches, like my friends @MarkRohfrietsch , @hedrick , @Pavel Mosko, @dzheremi, @GreekOrthodox, @Andrewn and our Anglican priests @Paidiske and @Deegie , about the practical aspects of what might be called liturgical beauty.

Now, we all know the theological discussion, and this I think is an area where we can all agree: the true beauty of the liturgy is from the interaction between God the Holy Trinity and we, his children, in the Eucharist and other sacraments and in Morning Prayer, Vespers, Compline and other prayers of what is variously called The Divine Office or The Liturgy of the Hours. I believe we all understand the work the Holy Spirit plays in bringing us together to facilitate what Calvin, to the surprise of some, called a “mystical union” between humanity and God, what Orthodox, Catholic and Anglican members might regard as the miracle on the altar and in the font and in other mysteries, and related manners. We may not agree on the extent to which the process is solely the work of God or the result of a divine synergy, but I do believe that we can all agree that two things more than anything else make the liturgy beautiful: the people present, clergy and laity both, and the presence of our Lord, which is stressed in particular “when two or more people are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them,” which is why most liturgical churches prefer or require two or more people including the celebrant be present for the Eucharist.

Sometimes, some things that are liturgical do happen alone, like the Divine Office, but I think most of us would agree that if we had more people and more time, the Office would, and should, be less of a devotional and more of a liturgical event, something that the Anglican, Orthodox and Assyrian churches have historically been very good at doing for Vespers and Compline (I am not going to count Morning Prayers, whether Orthros, the Hours, Matins, Lauds, Choral Mattins, or the Ante-Communion or Typika, because the latter occurs instead of the Eucharist, and the former can either be the principal morning service on most Sundays, or happens immediately prior to it, but if a church can get people to go to midday prayers or vespers/evensong/compline/all night vigils in the afternoon or evening of any day, that is a huge success, where many have aspired to do that including John Wesley in his Sunday Service Book for the Methodists in North America, and several Roman Catholic liturgical authorities including Pope Pius X and the Second Vatican Council, but these services are unfortunately not happening as much as any of them sincerely desired.

However, what I really want to talk about the threads is the practical, human aspect of liturgical beauty: what can we do to make the services more beautiful? I want to talk about hymnody and music more broadly, iconography, architecture, vestments, choir dress and clerical attire, the appearance of the altar, homiletics and the ideal style and length of preaching, the structure of the service (liturgiology proper), the use or disuse of incense, and also, how to accommodate those with allergic reactions to it without denying it to those who greatly appreciate it, floral arrangements, the lights (candles or oil lamps or in some cases such as the Assyrian Cathedral of St. Mary in Tarzana, CA, electric lamps), paraments, and other fixtures on the altar, and other lights and floral arrangements in the nave, including their number, simplicity, and the appearance and use of the chalice and paten (or diskos in Greek practice).

I also want to talk about different practices regarding confession and absolution, as well as what to do as the liturgy begins and ends such as ablutions of the sacred vessels, blessing the people with holy water, distributing blessed bread (antidoron) and blessed wine mixed with hot water or consecrated holy water to wash the communion down in the Russian and Coptic practice, and the prothesis or preparation of the bread and wine which is to be consecrated in the Eucharist, which ranges from simple, to slightly ceremonial, to elaborately ceremonial, and lastly, what to do after the liturgy ends to build fellowship, such as my personal preference of a communal meal. Basically, everything we can control. I want to learn about what each of you do in your churches (I do have substantial experience myself attending different liturgical rites, and preferences derived from them, but I want to learn about your practices and your preferences, what you do, and what you might do differently if you can).

All of these details mean less than the interaction of God and man, but as liturgy literally means “the work of the people”, they are important in that we all glorify God in different, and I think in all traditional churches, unique and beautiful ways. Some churches from every denomination have inadvertently done things arguably in bad taste on some occasions, or had accidents and mishaps during the liturgy that have ruined it, but in this thread, I think we should celebrate successful liturgy rather than dwell on failure, because I feel that we as members of liturgical churches glorify God in a unique way, and we should celebrate that uniqueness and learn from and about each others practices.

 

[Paidiske]

I'm certainly happy to follow along and participate, although I'm not really sure where to start with such a discussion!

One thing I've realised over time is that different people find different levels of sensory input helpful. For me, the space that is crowded with icons and beautiful things, filled with elaborate music, and so on, is too much. I don't find it invites me to worship, but rather overwhelms and makes me "shut down" to what's around me. My own preference (if, say, I were creating a chapel for my private worship) would likely be something with a very Cistercian aesthetic. Simplicity, light, and perhaps one or two key objects to draw the eye and invite devotional response.

But that is seldom helpful in a parish, where the congregation are diverse (and the inherited fabric is treasured). I do find my first beautifying instinct is often to declutter, and hopefully, build a focus on the things which matter most.

 

[The Liturgist]

I'm certainly happy to follow along and participate, although I'm not really sure where to start with such a discussion!

One thing I've realised over time is that different people find different levels of sensory input helpful. For me, the space that is crowded with icons and beautiful things, filled with elaborate music, and so on, is too much. I don't find it invites me to worship, but rather overwhelms and makes me "shut down" to what's around me. My own preference (if, say, I were creating a chapel for my private worship) would likely be something with a very Cistercian aesthetic. Simplicity, light, and perhaps one or two key objects to draw the eye and invite devotional response.

But that is seldom helpful in a parish, where the congregation are diverse (and the inherited fabric is treasured). I do find my first beautifying instinct is often to declutter, and hopefully, build a focus on the things which matter most.

There are some churches which really excel at this. I think Anglican and Lutheran churches tend to have the best looking altars among Western churches, except in those cases where someone puts a garish frontal on them, and I really like the controversial new altar installed in the 1980s at St. Stephen Walbrook, which is one of my favorite parishes in the City of London. What do you think of that as an example?

Also, historically, Syriac Christianity, especially the Assyrian Church of the East has emphasized a simple aesthetic, as has the Syriac Orthodox Church, to a much lesser degree, and the Maronite Catholic Church has an aesthetic which is a further simplification of Syriac Orthodox churches. There are some historical reasons for this; Assyrian churches gave up on having icons other than a canonically required icon of our Lord on the altar (which is missing in most parishes, despite being theoretically mandatory) due to repeated attacks from iconoclastic Muslims, but God ensures every cloud has a silver lining.

I think also the Cistercian ideal is highly appealing, and visually at least, could happen in a Protestant setting. Also, the old Dominican Rite, which is still celebrated in a few parishes around San Francisco, is noticeably simpler than the Tridentine Mass, and has textual similarities to the extremely simple Carthusian Rite liturgy, which borders on minimalism. The Old Roman Rite, before it became augmented with Greek and Gallican practices, like antiphonal singing, was also extremely simple, perhaps to the point of being perfunctory. Too simple for St. Ambrose of Milan, famously. Of course, the Anglican liturgy is an example of a contemporary liturgy with a beautiful simplicity.

I myself like all ends of the spectrum; I can’t be overwhelmed by too much, nor let down by a conscientious minimalism which is not iconoclastic but deliberate and liturgical, and am certainly very comfortable with the via media you describe.

 

[The Liturgist]

@bèlla do you have any observations on the ideal of simplicity to share with us (I noticed you liked Paidiske’s posts). I am trying to cast as wide a net as possible.

Also, in the interests of diversity, perhaps someone might share details on some of the more ornate liturgical rites?

 

[Paidiske]

I really like the controversial new altar installed in the 1980s at St. Stephen Walbrook, which is one of my favorite parishes in the City of London. What do you think of that as an example?

Is this it?

From what I can see online, it looks like an interesting set up, and there's a lot to be said for church in the round, but I wonder about the practicality of a round altar. How easy is it to reach the middle, especially if one is short?

(Side note: sanctuary furniture built for tall blokes can be challenging for shorter people - like me! - to work with).

 

[The Liturgist]

Is this it?

View attachment 301589

From what I can see online, it looks like an interesting set up, and there's a lot to be said for church in the round, but I wonder about the practicality of a round altar. How easy is it to reach the middle, especially if one is short?

I would imagine it would be impossible were it not for the surrounding steps. For the most part, I see celebrants using the sides of the altar, which is probably not a good sign. I would need to compare the size of it with the size of a typical Byzantine or Coptic Holy Table, but even on those, the candles or the Byzantine/Russian oil lamp candelabra (I forget the name for it, but its in Isabel Florence Hapgood’s guide to the liturgy), are on one side, the diskos, or paten, but with a supporting base like a chalice making it easier to handle, and the chalice, are on another edge, on top of the antimension, on a Byzantine altar, there is a Tabernacle for reserving the sacrament on another side, and on a Coptic altar, because they stopped reserving the sacrament due to Muslim attacks, thefts and desecration of the consecrated Eucharist, items which are on the table of preparation in the Byzantine Rite take up approximately the same space occupied by the Byzantine tabernacle, but in a different position.

The Ethiopians and Eritreans, having formally been a part of the Coptic Church, also use an altar table which is quite large, but all I know about it is that they have a small replica of the Ark of the Covenant, containing replicas of the Tablets of the Law, owing to their Jewish heritage, instead of an antimension (a piece of cloth with an icon of our Lord on it, and a relic sewn into the material), or tablitho (a wooden tablet the Syriac Orthodox use, as well as the Assyrians and Copts (who both call it something else) are required to have on their altar, on which the chalice and paten are placed, like a corporal, but mandatory, and containing a formal authorization from the Bishop to the Parish to serve the Eucharist on it, which can also be used as an altar in its own right in at least the Eastern Orthodox/Byzantine Catholic, Syriac Orthodox and Assyrian churches, and some priests in the Eastern Orthodox Church who serve multiple mission parishes have an antimensiom issued to them personally, and at a hierarchical divine liturgy in the Eastern Orthodox Church, the bishop will always inspect the antimension to ensure it is valid and in good condition).

So that replica Ark on the Ethiopian altar, which is required for the priests to liturgize (the Ethiopian Rite mandates two priests at every liturgy, or Qidasse, but in the diaspora this requirement is sometimes waved), which obviously does not have the chalice and paten placed on it, nor is it I would presume used as a substitute altar, is likely very heavy, being carved from stone, and takes up a notable amount of space.

So I think with this style of altar, you are kind of supposed to celebrate on one of the sides, opposite the lamps or candles, rather than the center, like in Anglican, Lutheran, Assyrian, Syriac and Armenian altars. I personally, as you may have guessed, if I ever have the pleasure of serving the Eucharist at St. Stephen Walbrook, which I pray someday happens, along with some of the other City churches, would face East, but since its a Church in the Round, no one could complain about my position relative to the congregation, and the other City churches are mostly not equipped for versus populum anyway. Or alternately I could literally follow the rubrics in the English Book of Common Prayer (all official editions except the 1549), and face north. Since it is a church in the round after all, and this affords a certain directional flexibility.*

(Side note: sanctuary furniture built for tall blokes can be challenging for shorter people - like me! - to work with).[/QUOTE]

That’s a very good point which hadn’t occurred to me, but is relevant for both men and women, because I am 6’2” (1.8288 meters) and St. Athanasius was considered short by fourth century standards, so he could have been as short as five feet (1.524 Meters). Being in the upper range of height does have definite disadvantages, however, although I also have long arms, like my father, memory eternal, which is useful. But yes, everything in the Apse or Altar space needs to be designed to accommodate a diverse range of heights. In an Anglican church, or other Protestant church, I would suggest on the altar table itself having wooden extensions to raise the height for taller priests; this might also be ok in the non-Protestant churches, but I don’t know. But I don’t think it would impact the use of the unique altar at St. Stephen Walbrook, because I have never seen anyone celebrate in the center of that altar (special permission for which was the most recent case heard, in the 1980s, by the Court of Arches, which sits in the nearby Parish of St. Mary-Le-Bow, which is the final authority on liturgical or rubrical disputes in the Church of England).

*Here is a fun fact: if anyone says that Churches in the Round are a modern innovation, they are completely wrong, because the Ethiopian Tewahedo Orthodox Church has been building them that way for centuries (their wooden churches tend to be in the round, whereas the famous rock hewn churches at Lalibela and elsewhere are in the familiar shape of a Greek Cross, also heavily used by all the other Eastern churches, except for the Syriacs and Assyrians, who seem to prefer a literal basilica shape with two aisles parallel to the nave. with the Apse at the end of the nave, and the Narthex in the usual position, as we are well accustomed to in the West).

 

[Paidiske]

That’s a very good point which hadn’t occurred to me, but is relevant for both men and women....

It's a problem both with furniture and with vestments. It's not unusual for me to find the cupboards in a parish have nothing that fits me reasonably well.

I am not sure that there's an ideal answer, except perhaps that parishes not be offended if clergy make changes to some things to suit their size.

 

[The Liturgist]

It's a problem both with furniture and with vestments. It's not unusual for me to find the cupboards in a parish have nothing that fits me reasonably well.

I am not sure that there's an ideal answer, except perhaps that parishes not be offended if clergy make changes to some things to suit their size.

I’ve always bought my own vestments, and this is actually normal in some churches. I highly recommend it and know where to get them inexpensively (mainly from extremely talented Eastern European tailors, some of whom sell their work brand new on eBay, and some of whom sell through various websites). The greatest advantage is that I get to help impoverished tailors of great talent, usually in the Ukraine, Belarus and the most impoverished parts of Eastern Europe and the former USSR, a few in Kerala who make vestments for the Syriac Orthodox Church, which are beautiful and incredibly inexpensive, and in all cases I have verified to make sure the vestments are ethically made, i.e. no sweatshop labor, but either directly sold by the tailor or bought from the tailor on demand at reasonable rates from sites like Liturgix.

As secondary and tertiary benefits, I know my vestments will fit properly and look the way I want, and I can get matching paraments.

The sacristry where I used to work never had what I wanted, so with permission, before the Internet was a thing I mainly used an American company mainly known for United Methodist and LCMS/LCC* church supplies called Cokesbury, which has simple styles and very practical double-sided stoles, although of late I’ve been going with a more ornate style. But as I also wore as much as I could get away with, I used Catholic suppliers which were much more expensive.

Cokesbury is reasonably priced and if you want simplicity, is probably the most reliable, but if you want some rich patterns and matching paraments, the Eastern Europeans are hard to beat. A complete set can be had for US$600 or less, often much less.

 

[Paidiske]

Here the rule is usually that you wear the parish's gear. I do actually own a few things of my own - gifts, mostly - but I very rarely wear them. In fact I have a white chasuble I've never worn.

 

[The Liturgist]

Here the rule is usually that you wear the parish's gear. I do actually own a few things of my own - gifts, mostly - but I very rarely wear them. In fact I have a white chasuble I've never worn.

Are you allowed to use your own vestments or is that forbidden or frowned upon? And for that matter, what about donating vestments to the parish as a way around that?

 

[The Liturgist]

On the subject of preaching, I think I said this before, but I do not consider myself a great preacher, but I do think I am a good editor, so many of my homilies are condensed versions of the classic homilies from the likes of St. Gregory Nazianzus, St. John Chrysostom, John Wesley and Bishop Lightfoot, all of whom were better preachers than I. I try to make their homilies accessible to modern audiences, and credit them in the program, and verbally, and whether I am rewprking an ancient homily or writing a new one, I always time it so that it lasts no longer than 15 minutes. When writing my own, I have found useful the famous diktat of the instructor of Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, when he was just a hieromonk (monastic priest), who taught him that every sermon should have three points, no more, no less, because this fits neatly into three 5 minute sections, a review of the scripture lessons, an exegetical explanation of how they are related, and a concluding summary interpretation that contains the main point and reiterates the other two.

Note that I do not reccommend this technique, I merely use it myself based on my own limitations (and also a desire to free up time for the Divine Office, of which Devotional Services by Rev. John Hunter of the King’s Weigh House, the legendary but now-defunct ultra high church* Congregationalist church in the City of London, has eight beautiful versions for morning and evening prayer, and the Eucharist, and I like to include a litany and the Nicene Creed, and sometimes in the Divine Office the Apostle’s Creed and the Greek version Quincunque Vult, and creedal hymns like Te Deum Laudamus and Ho Monogenes, because you can’t have enough creeds in my view, as well as classic canticles like the Magnificat, Benedictus, Jubilate Deo, Benedicite Omni Opera and Phos Hilarion.

*It was a Congregationalist parish, but as high church as @MarkRohfrietsch ’s Lutheran Church of Canada / Missouri Synod parish, what I think Mark would agree with me as being Evangelical Catholic if we were to read the liturgy, which Rev. Hunter published in book form.

 

[Paidiske]

Are you allowed to use your own vestments or is that forbidden or frowned upon? And for that matter, what about donating vestments to the parish as a way around that?

It's not that it's forbidden or that there's any official rule. More just that neglecting what the parish has lovingly and faithfully assembled over many years - and not unusually made by seamstresses in the parish - can often be felt as keenly disrespectful. So donating vestments is done, if at all, with great diplomacy.

I did, in the second parish where I was a curate, take one look at the green chasuble, which was truly appallingly ugly, and think to myself, "No, I can't, I really will have to replace that," (and I even got as far as choosing what I would replace it with), but then the priest in charge there forbade me to wear the chasuble anyway, so that solved that problem! (But created others...)

 

[The Liturgist]

It's not that it's forbidden or that there's any official rule. More just that neglecting what the parish has lovingly and faithfully assembled over many years - and not unusually made by seamstresses in the parish - can often be felt as keenly disrespectful. So donating vestments is done, if at all, with great diplomacy.

I did, in the second parish where I was a curate, take one look at the green chasuble, which was truly appallingly ugly, and think to myself, "No, I can't, I really will have to replace that," (and I even got as far as choosing what I would replace it with), but then the priest in charge there forbade me to wear the chasuble anyway, so that solved that problem! (But created others...)

Well, I would very respectfully suggest the possibility of, using the parish vestments that fit, and then enhance them with some of your own, chosen to work as well as possible with the existing vestments and paraments.

Speaking of paraments, like altar frontals, burses, and so on, contrary to popular belief; they do not have to be the same color, and in the Syriac Orthodox Church, in most parishes priests when they concelebrate, and the deacons, subdeacons and readers, like to wear different colored phaynos (phelonions - chasubles, basically, which look like copes, sort of like a Gothic chasuble) and this actually looks really beautiful. You also see Eastern Orthodox priests on rare occasions wear different colored vestments, often because concelebrating priests only bring their basic wardrobe or don’t own a complete one, or a single priest wearing vestments which do not match the paraments, deliberately, and this can look really good.

For example, green is the traditional Eastern and Jewish color for Pentecost, and both Eastern churches and Jewish synagogues will decorate their churches with green leaves, symbolizing new life. The leaves also symbolize the tongues of fire. This is one of only two occasions when Eastern Orthodox clergy wear green vestments according to the typikon, although you can also see them on All Saints Day (which is the Sunday after Pentecost - Trinity Sunday in the West; Pentecost is the feast of the Holy Trinity in the East, and the feast day for all churches dedicated to the trinity, and of course, the other mandatory occasion for green vestments is Palm Sunday). So they are almost as rare in the Byzantine Rite as rose vestments are in the Western Rite, and would be if everyone observed the same typikon precisely and had a complete set of vestments. Now, the traditional Western color for Pentecost is red, and I think red vestments can look great with green, leafy paraments. This is due to experiences with the Syriac Orthodox Church, where most vestments have red galloons (trim).

 

[GreekOrthodox]

Catching up and working on coffee, but this will give me something to think about on my commute. Orthodox clergy tend to have their own as we follow the liturgical calendar. We also have a number of services where all the local clergy will attend, such as the feast day of each church regardless of jurisdiction, you'll see a variety of styles from Greek, to the Russian high-collar style.

 

[The Liturgist]

Catching up and working on coffee, but this will give me something to think about on my commute. Orthodox clergy tend to have their own as we follow the liturgical calendar. We also have a number of services where all the local clergy will attend, such as the feast day of each church regardless of jurisdiction, you'll see a variety of styles from Greek, to the Russian high-collar style.

Indeed, I haven’t met an Orthodox priest who had vestments supplied by the parish. That said, I would think, but I have never asked, that vestments for the young Psaltis / Altar Boys are provided by the church, for obvious reasons of practicality, but then again, given the tendency of bots to accidentally damage their apparel, having the parish pay for a dalmatic, alb and cassock for each boy might also be impractical. But in countries like Russia, Belarus and the Ukraine, can the parents afford the cost of vestments, which won’t fit after a certain period of time.

 

[bèlla]

@bèlla do you have any observations on the ideal of simplicity to share with us (I noticed you liked Paidiske’s posts). I am trying to cast as wide a net as possible.

Also, in the interests of diversity, perhaps someone might share details on some of the more ornate liturgical rites?

Thank you for including me. I’m not an expert but @Paidiske’s comment resonated because I’ve experienced the same. I spent time at a Trappistine monastery discerning my vocation. It was a sanctuary of peace I’ve never encountered and haven’t since that time.

I’ve had opportunities to pray the liturgy throughout the day with the cloister. I suspect that’s a large contributor to the atmosphere. Spending that degree of time in prayer alters the spirit. You exude tranquility.

They had the most melodic voices and sing professionally too. I’d recall them randomly with fondness. My body attuned to the schedule and I joined them in prayer for several periods at home. I carry them with me today.

Vigils was my favorite. The room was dark and all was still. You could hear a pin drop. We prayed silently until lauds. Even now, my greatest intercession happens during that period.

I infused many of the things I experienced in my walk. And became like them in my own way. I live the rule. The irony of their impact is surprising. I’m not Catholic but I was raised in the faith. I did lectio divina in my quiet time. But I didn’t have a name for it until I met them.

Love was larger than denomination and that’s how I felt. I cried a lot before I left. I knew I encountered something special and wanted to stay. But God needed me elsewhere.

I was given a morsel to hold onto in the years to come. If I’m meant to walk that road I will. Contemplation is my home. They just confirmed it.

I have a spiritual rhythm now. Helping others find the same is good. Some practices will resonate more than most. Making them accessible allows them to employ the same elsewhere. They’re more likely to do so when shown.

Have a meal in silence with a reader. Offer classes on chanting. Teach them how to practice the presence so they’ll understand what Lawrence meant and recognize Him in the moments.

Like I’ve done here. They have to learn to see Him beyond the building, ritual, etc. and include Him in everything. What does that look like? It differs for everyone.

You appreciate their encounters because you’ve had your own. The community is richer and on one accord.

~bella

 

[GreekOrthodox]

Indeed, I haven’t met an Orthodox priest who had vestments supplied by the parish. That said, I would think, but I have never asked, that vestments for the young Psaltis / Altar Boys are provided by the church, for obvious reasons of practicality, but then again, given the tendency of bots to accidentally damage their apparel, having the parish pay for a dalmatic, alb and cassock for each boy might also be impractical. But in countries like Russia, Belarus and the Ukraine, can the parents afford the cost of vestments, which won’t fit after a certain period of time.

We have a supply of about 15 altar boy gold sticharions (albs for everyone else) of various sizes. We don't try to keep up with the liturgical season for them. They can run $150-200 a set. There are a few which have burn marks or some of the embroidery melted from holding the censer too close. I'd love for us to get a set of adult sized cassocks for people that occasionally get roped into serving. Three of us chanters have our own, although mine was made when I weighed 60 pounds heavier than I am now. But the rest are various cast offs and a mix of black rassarions (wide open sleeves) or choir gowns that just don't look right in the altar.

 

[The Liturgist]

Thank you for including me. I’m not an expert but @Paidiske’s comment resonated because I’ve experienced the same. I spent time at a Trappistine monastery discerning my vocation. It was a sanctuary of peace I’ve never encountered and haven’t since that time.

I’ve had opportunities to pray the liturgy throughout the day with the cloister. I suspect that’s a large contributor to the atmosphere. Spending that degree of time in prayer alters the spirit. You exude tranquility.

They had the most melodic voices and sing professionally too. I’d recall them randomly with fondness. My body attuned to the schedule and I joined them in prayer for several periods at home. I carry them with me today.

Vigils was my favorite. The room was dark and all was still. You could hear a pin drop. We prayed silently until lauds. Even now, my greatest intercession happens during that period.

I infused many of the things I experienced in my walk. And became like them in my own way. I live the rule. The irony of their impact is surprising. I’m not Catholic but I was raised in the faith. I did lectio divina in my quiet time. But I didn’t have a name for it until I met them.

Love was larger than denomination and that’s how I felt. I cried a lot before I left. I knew I encountered something special and wanted to stay. But God needed me elsewhere.

I was given a morsel to hold onto in the years to come. If I’m meant to walk that road I will. Contemplation is my home. They just confirmed it.

I have a spiritual rhythm now. Helping others find the same is good. Some practices will resonate more than most. Making them accessible allows them to employ the same elsewhere. They’re more likely to do so when shown.

Have a meal in silence with a reader. Offer classes on chanting. Teach them how to practice the presence so they’ll understand what Lawrence meant and recognize Him in the moments.

Like I’ve done here. They have to learn to see Him beyond the building, ritual, etc. and include Him in everything. What does that look like? It differs for everyone.

You appreciate their encounters because you’ve had your own. The community is richer and on one accord.

~bella

Thank you for your beautiful contribution to this thread @bèlla ! I hope you will continue participating in this discussion!

I really admire the liturgical beauty you experienced with the Trappist nuns. You might also find a visit to an Eastern or Oriental Orthodox convent to be further illuminating, because while the Roman Catholics have lectio divina, the Orthodox have hesychasm, and different forms of chant which are extremely beautiful, especially Russian, Ukrainian, Belarussian, Bulgarian, Syriac Orthodox, Coptic Orthodox and Assyrian chant - unfortunately the Assyrians have no active monasteries since the Muslims killed off their monks centuries ago; there was an attempt to start one in Central California a few years ago, but it did not work. Part of the problem is bootstrapping a monastery or convent is much harder than having an experienced monk or nun as Hegumen (Abbot or Abbess). But the Copts, Greeks, Russians, Antiochians, Bulgarians, Romanians, Carpatho-Rusyns, Georgians and the Orthodox Church in America all have convents, as well as monasteries also open to women and families on retreat, like St. Anthony’s (a Coptic one near Yermo, on the road from LA to Vegas, and a Greek one by the same name, about the same age, in Florence, Arizona).

However, this is just a suggestion from someone like me who likes all of the liturgical traditions, including other Roman Catholic monastic orders besides the Trappistines, such as the Carthusians, Benedictines, Augustinians, Carmelites, Norbertines, and the mendicant orders like the Dominicans, Franciscans, Servites, Minims, Trinitarians and others. And also, within the Latin Church you have, in Milan and the surrounding region, the Ambrosian Rite, which is a hybrid Gallican-Roman liturgy with strong Byzantine influences, different in many ways, such as the length of Advent, from the Roman Rite, and with its own beautiful form of chant. There is also the Mozarabic Rite, a pure Gallican liturgy, which now survives only in a dedicated chapel in the cathedral in Toledo, a nearby monastery, and in some aspects of the liturgy of Holy Matrimony as celebrated in Mexico, but which Pope John Paul II celebrated a mass in at St. Peter’s in the 1990s, so there seems to be some effort to keep it alive.

There is also the Anglican chant tradition, used for the Psalms, and to a lesser extent, the canticles, which is exceptionally beautiful, and tonal, as opposed to older forms of chant which are modal but lack tonality.

But what ever you choose to do, I respect what you are doing immensely - J greatly admire your effort to teach people chanting and other aspects of the mystical experience of the Liturgy. This is admirable and parallels to a large extent what I am trying to do, and what I think John Wesley was trying to do, which is to make traditional theology accessible to poorly catechized laity.

So its thrilling to discover someone in a similar trajectory to me!

 

[The Liturgist]

@Andrewn would you like to share with us the liturgical experience at your church, and your personal preferences in terms of liturgical practices?

 

[The Liturgist]

We have a supply of about 15 altar boy gold sticharions (albs for everyone else) of various sizes. We don't try to keep up with the liturgical season for them. They can run $150-200 a set. There are a few which have burn marks or some of the embroidery melted from holding the censer too close. I'd love for us to get a set of adult sized cassocks for people that occasionally get roped into serving. Three of us chanters have our own, although mine was made when I weighed 60 pounds heavier than I am now. But the rest are various cast offs and a mix of black rassarions (wide open sleeves) or choir gowns that just don't look right in the altar.

Well, some priests only have gold and dark red vestments, or only one set - the Typikon proper if I am reading it correctly only specifies light or dark vestments, depending on the occasion, and not specific colors, which are rather an example of how the typikon is augmented by the traditions of specific jurisdictions, monasteries and parishes. For example, in the American Carpatho-Rusyn Orthodox Diocese, at their main cathedral of St. Gregory of Nyssa I have viewed videos on youtube of them celebrating Palm Sunday in Lenten purple vestments.