All week I’ve been worshipping at Christ’s altar in red: red vestments, red flowers, red tabernacle veil, red chalice veil and burse. For that matter, even the great gilt missal is flaming red. The sanctuary has been on fire since Sunday, and such is the appropriate vesture for the long-lost Pentecost Octave. Before 1969 Christians recognized the Feast of the Holy Spirit as second only to that of Easter itself. And so, as with Easter, Pentecost was celebrated as a solemnity for eight continuous days, with priest and sanctuary vested in blazing red garments. So it is in our parish in San Francisco, even today, because we are privileged to offer the Extraordinary Form of the Mass every day.
Truly, the mystery of Pentecost requires a full week, not merely a day. Every day this week I’ve been chanting the numinous sequence Veni Sancte Spiritus: “Sine tuo numine, nihil est in homine, nihil est innoxium…” In my free translation: “Apart from your will and your presence (literally, without the nod of your head), there is nothing in man, at least nothing not toxic.” Only the burning presence of God’s sacred Spirit renders meaning to any person’s life. Without the Spirit of God, we are nothing, mere dust in the wind.
Veni, pater pauperum, veni, dator munerum, veni, lumen cordium…. “Come O Father of the poor; come O Giver of every gift; come, O Light of every heart….”
Flecte quod est rigidum, fove quod est frigidum, rege quod est devium…. “loosen that which is rigid; warm that which is frozen; straighten that which is bent….”
What a joy to offer this Mass every day at the ruddied altar, and to know that God’s will and His work are unfolding here at Star of the Sea, here in my darkened life, here in the chaos of our political moment. The Holy Spirit yet fills the world as a great wind fills the sails of a mighty ship, and she cuts the waves on her glorious path to her true haven.
Truly, the mystery of Pentecost requires a full week, not merely a day. Every day this week I’ve been chanting the numinous sequence Veni Sancte Spiritus: “Sine tuo numine, nihil est in homine, nihil est innoxium…” In my free translation: “Apart from your will and your presence (literally, without the nod of your head), there is nothing in man, at least nothing not toxic.” Only the burning presence of God’s sacred Spirit renders meaning to any person’s life. Without the Spirit of God, we are nothing, mere dust in the wind.
Veni, pater pauperum, veni, dator munerum, veni, lumen cordium…. “Come O Father of the poor; come O Giver of every gift; come, O Light of every heart….”
Flecte quod est rigidum, fove quod est frigidum, rege quod est devium…. “loosen that which is rigid; warm that which is frozen; straighten that which is bent….”
What a joy to offer this Mass every day at the ruddied altar, and to know that God’s will and His work are unfolding here at Star of the Sea, here in my darkened life, here in the chaos of our political moment. The Holy Spirit yet fills the world as a great wind fills the sails of a mighty ship, and she cuts the waves on her glorious path to her true haven.
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