3 thoughts on “Sandals & Fiddlebacks

  1. I loved it. Can you tell me what they’re singing?

    The ceremonial is very much like what I have at my own church every week, only of course with the English Anglican liturgy.


  2. So glad you enjoyed it, Lydia. I thought you would. The music is incredible. I think it’s a hymn to Our Lady, but I don’t understand much Latin. Will have to ask my kids.

    The traditional Anglican liturgy is often celebrated in a form that is nearly identical the Latin Mass. I’m kind of surprised that yours is, though, because I thought you were a “low church” variety Anglican.

    I remember the day it began to dawn on me that I would soon be a Roman Catholic. One Sunday after mass, I couldn’t remember whether the priest had done both the major and minor elevations. (He probably had but I just wasn’t paying attention.) The thought that perhaps he had not – that the elevations were optional in the Anglican liturgy – horrified me. It occurred to me at that moment that one day I would find myself on the other side of the Tiber.


  3. _I’m_ low-church, but my church is as high as it is able to be with, er, almost no people to be acolytes, thurifers, and stuff like that. Which means it comes out looking sorta low, because there’s no one to swing the censer and so forth. I don’t mind that, though I know there are others who do. But the liturgy is the Oxford-ized BCP of the American Missal, which means quite high. I have both theological and aesthetic objections to this, the aesthetic ones being chiefly that the Oxford-ish additions are relatively speaking poorly written, are woodenly applied, and do not fit well with Cranmer’s original, which forms the basis for it down at the bottom. I always say it’s like a genuine Tudor house with Gothic bits sticking out at the sides.

    Be all that as it may, I am quite attached to the general ceremonial set-up, and the _rhythm_ of the Mass would be very much the same even if one did a much more stripped-down BCP Mass.

    I have also been horrified myself at the stories of those Roman Catholic parishes in which the altar rail is ripped out and one has to receive in a line, standing, and often as not from a woman “extraordinary minister.” I couldn’t handle that. There’s a limit to my low-church tendencies!


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