Plain And Simple

I attended my first Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) over the weekend at the invitation of a friend. My son wanted to go with me, so we set off together to the Overbrook section of Philadelphia Sunday morning, not really knowing what to expect. Deb and Monica went to our parish for Mass that day, as I wanted to scout out the TLM first.

There were a good number of people present. The women wore veils on their heads (1 Cor 11:3-16), and everyone approached the liturgy in a reverent manner. It was a little hard to follow along (I kept flipping through the Missal, as the priest had his back to the congregation as is custom and spoke the words quietly in Latin, so it was hard to hear.

I could appreciate the traditional Mass for it's reverence and its focus (the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is about God, not about you), but personally it wasn't really my style. I grew up occasionally going to Eastern-rite liturgies with my dad, which follows a similar form, so it wasn't completely novel for me. We attend a Roman-rite Novus Ordo Mass today, for better or worse.

But I have heard "the Devil hates Latin," and I believe it. There is a reason exorcisms are performed in Latin--it is the official language of the Church. We (I) would be wise to learn it, if nothing else as another weapon in the spiritual artillery box.

I'm not completely Latin-clueless, however. Every now and then throughout my day, if I find myself in a contemplative mood, I catch myself quietly singing the Salve Regina (Hail Holy Queen) in Latin. I never learned Latin in school or otherwise, but I did spend part of a summer in observership formation at a Benedictine monastery in New York state when I was 19. Every evening after Compline the four other observers and myself would descend with the monks to the crypt and sing in plainsong before the statue of the Blessed Virgin to close out the evening.

Salve, Regina, mater misericordiae: 
Vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve. 
Ad te clamamus, exsules, filii Hevae. 
Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes 
In hac lacrimarum valle. 
Eia ergo, Advocata nostra, 
 Illos tuos misericordes oculos 
Ad nos converte. 
Et Jesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui, nobis, post hoc exsilium ostende. 
O clemens! O pia! 
O dulcis Virgo Maria!


I remember it today by heart (and I do NOT have a good memory, in general) because we prayed it, in song, every night. It became habit, and stuck. Whether in Latin or otherwise, I think it is really to our benefit as Christians that we commit to memory certain scripture (esp psalms) and prayers that we can draw on in time of need, from memory. The easiest way is to pray it every day, as in the Divine Office, out loud; it has a way of seeping in to your subconscious more effectively this way.

Psalm 4, for instance, has stayed with me from my summer at the monastery as well, so it is a go-to for me when I don't have a bible handy. I really think the rhythmic style of Gregorian Chant lends itself to this kind of memorization. When I pray it from memory, I sing it in plainsong, because that is how I learned it and, again, it stuck:


"When I call, answer me, O God of justice; 
from anguish you released me, have mercy and hear me! 

O men, how long will your hearts be closed, 
will you love what is futile and seek what is false? 

It is the Lord who grants favors to those whom he loves; 
the Lord hears me whenever I call him. 

Fear him; do not sin: ponder on your bed and be still 
Make justice your sacrifice, and trust in the Lord. 

"What can bring us happiness?" many say. 
Lift up the light of your face on us, O Lord. 

You have put into my heart a greater joy 
than they have from abundance of corn and new wine. 

I will lie down in peace and sleep comes at once 
for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety."


Since I stopped listening to secular music on the radio and my ipod, the only music I play in the car anymore is Gregorian Chant. The particular CD is the Marian chant of the Monks of Norsia. I just have it playing in the car when I leave for work, and that's all I really listen to. I'm hoping it will seep in, so that I get to catching myself singing it to myself throughout the day, rather than lyrics by Beyonce or Katy Perry as I have in the past.

I wish we would bring back chant to the Mass, and do away with the folk guitars and instruments. Keep It Simple Silly, and there's nothing more simple than plainsong. It is reverent and ancient and simple and lends itself to profundity, and gets deep into your bones when sung regularly.

Deo Gratias.


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