in this matter. Those who say mass at a convent, for example, are in
nearly every case expected at an early hour, and on arrival are usually
shown into the sacristy as a matter of course; to get up sufficiently
soon to have time to spare needs considerable stimulus. A difficulty of
the opposite kind is created when a priest has to say a late mass,
whether on a weekday or a Sunday. He naturally makes it the occasion of
a long rest, and too often prolongs it to the very last minute, arriving
in the sacristy only just in time to vest. If it is a Sunday, and he is
duplicating, he makes that an excuse for sparing himself, so that he may
not be over fatigued.
Neither of these difficulties are insuperable; but in practice they
commonly hold the field. Without any drastic remedies, however, it is
sometimes possible to suggest at least a partial way out of the
difficulty. A priest who has to walk some distance to the convent, for
example, may well keep up a state of recollection during his journey,
and when he knows the liturgical prayers by heart, he can usually say
them on the way. But after all, the proper remedy is to rise a little
earlier, so as to make his preparation either in the sacristy or even on
a _prie-Dieu_ in the convent chapel, [4] which the nuns will very
willingly provide if asked. And in this case he need not limit himself
to the liturgical "Preparation." Still more easily can he, if only he
adverts to the necessity, come down for a late mass some little time
before he has to vest. And for the ordinary parish masses he can do the
same, if only he is sufficiently serious-minded to do it; and he will be
well rewarded in the additional fervour which he will bring to his mass.
Nor should we omit an allusion to the negative preparation, which
consists in avoiding all kinds of distraction before mass. To refrain
from reading one's letters, even before a very late mass, is a practice
the very definiteness of which makes it easy to perform. In similar way
every kind of arrangement for the work of the day, or any unnecessary
speaking or intercourse with others should be strictly avoided.
With respect to thanksgiving after mass, there is less to be said, as
the temptation to omit or curtail it is less. It is regularly looked for
and expected wherever the priest goes. The importance of a good
thanksgiving, to gather up the fruit of the mass, can hardly be
overestimated. Hence when a priest has to take Communion to the sick--
which he so often does after mass--it does not seem much to ask that he
should allow at least a few minutes to pass for his direct thanksgiving:
after which he can well continue and complete it as he carries his Lord
through the streets to the house of the sick man. It is not too much to
say that his fervour as a priest will be the reflection of that of his
daily mass, and the manner in which he says mass will depend on his
preparation and thanksgiving.
With respect to the intention for which mass is offered, in a populous
mission that almost settles itself, as our parishioners have the first
right to our masses, within reasonable limits. But a priest would do
well to keep a certain number at his own disposal, in order to foster
the spirit of his piety. And every priest should from time to time say
mass for his people. This is now laid as an obligation on those rectors
of missions who have by recent legislation become _parochi_, on all
Sundays and holidays, including the suppressed feasts. For others it is
still a matter of option; yet one would think that a priest's own
interest in his work would suggest to him the propriety of doing so at
least occasionally. It sounds strange to hear many priests regret the
obligation and refuse to comply with it unless it can be shown to be
absolutely binding. It would have appeared that if a priest has a proper
spirit of zeal, the one end of his life would be the sanctification of
his people, or those among whom he works. They have few enough prayers
offered for them: one would have thought that an occasional mass would
have been freely offered by the priest as a privilege. Unfortunately the
question of income comes in, and many a priest hesitates between the two
motives. Yet even in the masses which his parishioners ask him to say,
some have to be without a stipendium, and this ought to be so, to
prevent the danger of the mercenary spirit over-running his better
instincts.
It remains to say something on the manner of saying mass. There is no
necessity to labour the fact that the rubrics ought to be faithfully
observed, for they are commonly considered to bind under sin. Yet
consistently with observing them it is possible to be either unduly long
or unduly short. Both are objectionable from different points of view. A
priest who takes from half an hour to forty minutes will prevent many
who could otherwise attend from hearing mass; while one who gets through
in a quarter of an hour will give no small scandal. The rule sometimes
given of thirty minutes "from amice to amice" means about twenty-five
minutes at the altar, and it is a reasonable allowance. But, after all,
the actual time consumed is of less importance than the manner of
celebrating. Some people have a rapid utterance; others are quick in
their movements; others again save much time by not dawdling, but
proceeding from one act direct to the next. Others, however, are by
nature slow, and inclined to be hesitating in their action. Due
allowance must be made for difference of temperament in this regard, so
that no strict limit can be laid down. Even the well-known rule of St.
Alphonsus that a priest must occupy at least a quarter of an hour is not
always a safe minimum; for it must be remembered that on different days
masses vary considerably in length. A short ferial mass without _Gloria_
or _Credo_, especially if there is no _Imperata_ prayer, or a _Missa
Quotidiana_ for the Dead, omitting the _Dies Irae_, are instances of
very short masses which might take less than twenty minutes. The really
important thing is that mass should be offered by the priest with
dignity and recollection, as though conscious of the greatness of the
act, a spirit which will show itself in every movement and gesture, and
help the devotion both of him who celebrates and those who assist.
A word ought to be added about reading the Latin audibly. The late Pope
tried to reintroduce the practice of the faithful following the
liturgical prayers, etc. Undoubtedly this is a good method of hearing
mass, though it had fallen largely into disuse. It can hardly be said
that the Pope's wishes have led to any substantial result, and the
reason is not far to seek. For the tradition of saying mass in an
audible tone, such that even those near can follow, has almost entirely
died out. In the vast majority of instances, the priest reads the Latin
rapidly, and in a tone of voice that effectually precludes anyone
hearing him. It seems sometimes as though his special object was to
prevent anyone from following. Now there are other ways of hearing mass
which do not need attending to the words, such as saying the Rosary,
reciting Office, or private prayers, or using the prayers in the _Garden
of the Soul_ or other book. The first of these methods has been
especially approved by being actually commanded by ecclesiastical
authority for the month of October in every year. Nevertheless, it is
not too much to say that those who prefer what many people consider to
be the highest way of assisting at mass, have a right to do so, and it
is the priest's duty to enable himself by practice to read the Latin in
a tone which can be heard at least by those around him. We say
deliberately "by practice," for the power to read Latin audibly and
intelligibly is not so easy as many people seem to think, and requires
considerable trouble to acquire.
The above of course only applies to a congregational mass: those who
celebrate privately at a side altar will naturally speak in a low tone
of voice, so as not to disturb their neighbours. Even they, however,
should be practised in reading Latin, so as to read it intelligibly to
themselves, for the liturgical prayers should be a great aid to their
own devotion. The old habit of saying a black mass on every free day is
now almost obsolete; and it has been replaced by the various concessions
of Pope Pius X with respect to certain days, on which we may either say
mass _de Tempore_ or _de Sanctis_; and occasionally, as in a vigil in
Advent, three different masses are possible. All this helps to the
appreciation of the liturgy, and should be used by the priest for that
purpose.
_Mental Prayer_
It is admitted by all that a priest must be supereminently a man of
prayer, and that the most important form of prayer, both in obtaining
what we ask for and in its reaction upon ourselves, is Mental Prayer:
yet, strange to say, of all the priest's duties, that of Mental Prayer
is the one which is unfortunately too often put in a secondary place, or
even neglected altogether. The name usually given to it--Meditation--is
unattractive and misleading. It seems to put before one the idea of
day-dreaming, and it is possible that all the practice of several years
at least in the Seminary has not fully dispelled this idea. In point of
fact, the Meditation is only one part, and that by no means the most
important, of systematic Mental Prayer. It is a means to an end. Mental
Prayer may be defined simply as prayer without a set form of words, and
the Meditation is that which is usually--though not always--necessary to
set the mind and heart in motion; but the end to be obtained consists of
the aspirations of the heart and the acts of the will. It is these which
make St. Alphonsus say that it cannot co-exist with sin; [5] and to
promise that anyone who practises Mental Prayer for half an hour daily
will certainly save his soul.
It is to be hoped that now the Church has laid it down definitely as
part of a priest's daily duty, greater strictness may be observed by our
clergy in practising it with regularity. Yet there are undoubted
practical difficulties in the actual circumstances in which we are
placed. The ideal practice is undoubtedly to make half an hour's Mental
Prayer before saying mass; but in many instances, especially in the case
of the junior clergy, this is hardly possible. For they frequently have
to say mass either very early or very late, or sometimes one, sometimes
the other; or to go out to say mass at a convent or other centre some
distance away, at a comparatively early hour.
The difficulty is thus the same, only in a more acute form, as that
which has been mentioned in connection with a proper preparation for
mass. For if it is difficult to find time for a preparation of five or
ten minutes, a priest is not likely to find the longer time necessary
for a proper Meditation. If he has to celebrate early at a convent, his
mass will be followed by breakfast, after which he will return to the
Presbytery somewhere about eight o'clock. He may then have letters to
read, and in any case will consume half an hour or more over the daily
paper, accompanied with his morning cigarette. Often he cannot spare the
time after that, as he may have to be in the school at nine. But even if
he can, he is not well circumstanced for a Meditation: the distractions
of the day are on him, and he is in the midst of his work. The
conclusion forces itself upon us that the morning Meditation, whether
before or after mass, should be made at least before breakfast, or it
will not be made at all; and whereas the rector is usually in a position
to do so without inconvenience, this is not always the case; and whereas
a curate can easily do it if he really wishes on days when he says a
late mass, it is not always easy when he says an early one.
Undoubtedly the duty will not be complied with without serious effort,
and the first stage is a realisation of its practicability as well as
its necessity. Some priests meet the case by uniting their mental prayer
with their thanksgiving after mass. This is always better than nothing;
and if a priest has the courage to prolong the exercise to twenty or
twenty-five minutes, and can guard against interruption from having to
take Communion to the sick or other causes, it may be a complete
solution of the difficulty.
But should the obstacles in the morning prove too great, so that
practically the exercise is frequently curtailed or elbowed out; it may
be better to capitulate to circumstances and set apart a time in the
evening, when it will be done less effectively, and perhaps less
regularly, as a priest is sometimes out at that time; but it can usually
be done. The Canon Law lays down no definite duration for the exercise;
and though the traditional half-hour assigned by custom ought not to
prove too long, it is better to occupy half that time or even less, than
to omit the exercise altogether.
Granted now that twenty minutes or half an hour is to be spent in Mental
Prayer, the next question is how to spend it. And here the present
writer wishes thoroughly to endorse the view put forward by Canon
Keatinge that it should be spent in the church and nowhere else. The
whole passage is worth quoting:--[6]
"Let me plead for the habit of using the church as our pious lay folk
do. The church is not merely the priest's workshop, where he gives the
sacraments and preaches to others. It is his own home, his sanctuary,
and he is the appointed guardian of this dwelling-place of God with men.
Here at least his surroundings will help his prayer, not mar it, and the
sacramental presence of his God will tend to warm his heart and to lift
his first thoughts above the teasing distractions of his daily life."
The alternative of trying to make our Meditation in our room is to
surround ourselves with difficulties and distractions of every kind,
connected with our daily work. If it be argued that the Jesuits
themselves always make their exercises in their rooms, the answer is
simply that this is part of a complete and thoroughly worked out system
of life, and it is no disrespect to them to say that to adopt one detail
when we do not aim at adopting the whole will not lead to a good result.
A minor reason for urging the use of the church is that it gives great
edification to the lay folk coming to mass to find the priest always
there first at his prayers, while it puzzles them to find the church
empty till the very hour for mass. And if it be urged that the early
comers will invade the priest's time and seeing him there, will utilise
the spare minutes to go to Confession or the like, the answer is that
only the most inconsiderate of his parishioners would think of troubling
him at such a time unless there is good reason--that they live at a
distance or cannot come at another time; and in the few instances in
which it may occur, the charity of his sacrifice will make up for the
interruption of his exercise.
We may also plead the high authority of St. Alphonsus, [7] that the
church is the best place for meditation, and although he goes on to say
that those who cannot go to the church may "give themselves to prayer in
any place, at home, in the country, even when walking, even when at
their work," he is not speaking primarily of priests, who nearly always
have the opportunity of using the church if they want to; nevertheless
he describes a practice which may often be useful to a hard-worked
priest, whether his morning meditation has been omitted or not.
Coming now to the method of Meditation, we find some features common to
all methods. All are agreed that a short preparation should be made
overnight, and the subject matter of the coming exercise be briefly
reviewed, and that from that time until the Meditation is made, some
sort of recollection should be observed, corresponding to the "Magnum
Silentium" prescribed in the Seminary. All are agreed also that when the
time comes, a short preparatory prayer should be made for light and
help; and at the conclusion an act of thanksgiving. For the body of the
prayer it is usual to speak of two great systems--the Jesuit and the
Sulpician--but of these two the Jesuit method is far the more
widespread. [8] Indeed, the general use of that method is one of the
greatest proofs of the large influence exerted by the Society in the
Church. It is in many ways specially suited to the restless age in which
we live, for it excites and guides our activity throughout: there is no
period of rest. It is so well known that there is no need to describe
it in detail. At first sight, to a beginner, it appears complicated
enough. We are told to begin with a prayer for light, and two preludes,
one being a "Composition of Place," the other a petition for certain
definite grace. Then comes the body of the subject, divided into three
points; to each point is assigned a Consideration and an Application;
and, finally, at the end a Colloquy, and an examination of how the
Meditation has been made. Then as an alternative, we are given a method
of Contemplation--to examine the Persons, Actions, Words--or Application
of the Senses--touch, sight, sound, etc. All this to a beginner presents
the idea of hopeless complication; Father Faber likens it to the
cleric's first initiation into the Breviary with its apparent hopeless
ramifications; but in practice the parts fit so well together and follow
so naturally one on the other that after a short time the idea of
complication to a great extent disappears.
The Sulpician method is in entire contrast to the above. The subject
matter is not divided into points, but viewed as a whole; but the prayer
itself is divided into three parts, of almost equal duration with each
other. They are Adoration, Communion, Co-operation; said to correspond
to the three petitions of the Lord's Prayer, Hallowed be Thy Name; Thy
Kingdom come; Thy will be done.
In truth, however, there are as many methods of mental prayer as there
are teachers thereof, for so much depends on the personality of the
person who practises it. It seems almost presumptuous to speak of
practising it without a method, and it opens the door to the danger of
"kneeling vacantly and doing nothing, which adds the fault of
irreverence to that of idleness."[9]--a danger almost indicated by the
very name Meditation. Still, on the high authority of St. Alphonsus, we
venture to put forward a plan which is so natural as hardly to be called
a method at all, and which emphasises the quality of spontaneity in our
intercourse with God which should be one of the great fruits of Mental
Prayer. Let him speak for himself; the following quotations give the
essence of his direction:--[10]
"For meditation, it is best . . . to use some book; pausing when the
mind finds itself most affected. St. Francis of Sales says that in this
we must do as the bees, who will settle on a flower until they have
drawn out its honey, and then pass on to another. . . .
"Here we must observe that the spiritual profit derived from Mental
Prayer does not consist so much in meditation as in making affections,
petitions and resolutions: these are the fruits of meditation. And so
after reflecting on some eternal maxim, and after God has spoken to the
heart, we ought ourselves to speak to God with the heart, by making
affections, or by acts of faith, of thanksgiving, of adoration,
humility, and--most of all--of love and of contrition, which is also an
act of love. For love is that golden band which unites the soul to God.
. . .
"It is of great benefit to make petitions again and again, earnestly
beseeching God with humility and confidence for His light; for pardon of
sins, perseverance, a good death, paradise, and, above all, the gift of
His holy love. . . .
"It is necessary in prayer, at least at the end of it, to make some firm
resolve, not only in general to avoid all deliberate sin however light,
and to give ourselves entirely to God, but also in particular, as, for
instance, to keep ourselves with greater care from some fault into which
we have more frequently fallen; or to practise some virtue in a better
way than before. . . We ought not to cease from prayer until we have
made some definite resolution."
One special advantage of the above is that its simplicity makes it
suitable for beginners in the art of Mental Prayer; and in times of
dryness, when devotion does not come easily, it may reduce itself
ultimately to slowly reading a book. Such times are familiar to all of
us, but they are especially discouraging to a beginner who is without
experience to cope with them. Especially a student at college, or even
at school, may find help in this manner, and a practice which from its
name sounds unattractive, and the explanation of which has sometimes
appeared too complicated to be practicable, may in this way be reduced
to a simple exercise within the reach of all.
The choice of a book is of course an important feature. To discuss this
at length, however, would take us beyond our prescribed limits. There
are good books in plenty, but nearly all of them are based on the Jesuit
method, and difficult to use for such people as prefer some other
system. Of late an inclination has been shown to go back to Bishop
Challoner--a fact which bears eloquent testimony to the solid worth of
his work written a century and a half ago. His meditations are indeed
each in three points, but they allow more latitude of treatment than
does a strictly Jesuit book.
But, after all, it is not necessary to have a set meditation book at
all. Many find all they want in the _Imitation of Christ_. Others use
the text of the Gospels--a practice which may be very fruitful to those
who are sufficiently familiar with New Testament criticism, so as to be
able to picture vividly in their own mind the surroundings of the scenes
described. If these are sufficiently understood, then the words of our
Lord, especially as given in St. John's Gospel, should provide the best
possible matter for mental prayer.
_Divine Office_
The daily recitation of the Breviary is the one exercise of the priest
which is not optional, but imposed by precept. The first result of this
is that he is praying not in his own name, but in that of the Church.
The most perfect way of satisfying the precept is to attend Office in
choir. At one time this was in a great measure possible; and indeed
until the recent reform of the Breviary under Pope Pius X, it contained
no reference to private recitation at all: it was assumed throughout
that the Office was recited in choir. [11] At the present day, however,
it is practically only monks who have the opportunity of doing so. Even
on Sundays, the singing of Vespers has become rare in our churches, and
when it does take place, there is usually no priest present except the
Celebrant. The only alternative left to the secular priest is to recite
the Office privately. But it is well for him to bear in mind that he is
one of a large choir of reciters all over the world, who though
separated physically, are united in spirit, singing the praises of God
in the official words of the Church. It would seem that the least a
priest can be expected to do is to select a proper time and place and
suitable surroundings for so solemn a duty.
Yet there is perhaps no exercise in his daily life about which he is so
lax in the manner of its performance. The obligation seems to weigh on
him, and he acts as though time given to Office was time wasted, and
therefore the great object aimed at was to fit it in when he can do so
with the least interruption possible of his daily occupations. Who has
not seen a priest saying Office in circumstances of time and place
ill-befitting such a solemn act--as, for example, in a crowded railway
carriage or tramcar, or while walking from place to place, or while
waiting for an appointment, or for dinner? This method of treating it,
to say the least, shows a want of appreciation of its solemn character,
and the sanctifying effect of the duty is properly discharged. Yet these
same people will show a minute scrupulosity about many of the small
details of the Office which they conceive to bind under sin. It might
surely be better if they devoted less care to the small details and more
to the general spirit with which the Office is said. It is with a view
to this general result that the following few suggestions are made.