How does your community remember and pray for the dead on November 2nd, the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed, and throughout the month of November? And what practices do you have throughout the year?
Is there a special remembrance on November 2nd of those who passed away in the previous year? Are the families and loved ones of the deceased involved ritually in this? Are Mass intentions for the deceased listed in the bulletin, or made known during the celebration of Mass? Is there a Book of the Dead?
This year our intercessions on Nov 2nd was almost entirely a reading of the names of all parishioners who had died in the past year, with a few additions to fit the form. We have a book of remembrance people are invited to enroll names in and they’re remembered as a block in each Mass in November. The Mass intentions are listed in the bulletin, and included the intercessions at every Mass throughout the year.
We offer a special, separate Mass for the Dead which, like Adam’s church (see Post #1), includes a reading of all the names of the deceased from the parish. During the Mass, we allow the assembly to come forward and light a candle in remembrance of a deceased family member or friend. These remain burning for the remainder of the service. Also, we print up Mass cards for this occasion and send them to all of the families of the deceased, along with a personal invitation to this Mass. The Mass is followed by a reception in the hall where people can share stories of their loved ones.
We always have good turn-out for this Mass and for those who attend regularly, it seems to be a high point in their fall calendar.
At Corpus Christi Parish in Lawrence, Kansas, we enthrone our Book of the Dead near the sanctuary on All Souls Days along with the Paschal Candle. These will remain in place during the month of November.
We’ve also set up a “Chapel of Remembrance” near the baptistry, for parishioners to bring photos of their loved ones. This space serves as an area for prayer and reflection. It’s a sort of Anglo interpretation of the Hispanic Día de Muertos altars.
In the tradition of the 3 Masses on All Souls Day, our parish hosts evening Masses for the Dead on the 3 Tuesdays following All Souls. At each of these Masses, we remember a different group of the deceased: spouses and parents, children and siblings, and those deceased in the past 5 years. People find these Masses very moving. The lighting and music is subdued, and after communion the entire assembly is invited to light a candle and place it around the Book of the Dead.
I’m glad that we do so much to remember the dead here. It’s an important time of year to revisit these places in our lives where there is hurt and sorrow. Most importantly, we do this revisiting as a community, with the support of fellow community members and the support of the Church.
We should not shy away from the Dies Irae when celebrating a votive requiem or All Souls’ as an external solemnity. I suspect that an Anglo-Catholic has set an English translation to the traditional chant.
The sequences of the year are beautiful meditations on the turn of seasons. The Dies Irae is yet another sequence of profound internal reflection. We will all die, and in anticipation of death confess the particular judgment. Death, therefore, contains its own mystery which can be harrowing in its ramifications. And yet, there is no escape from this reality of eschaton.
Oh, I can hear the chorus now: “the Dies Irae is too morbid”, “The chant is depressing”, “It’ll scare people”, “it’s in the Office per annum, so it’s not necessary to perform it for requiems”, etc. Is Mass a therapy session, or our encounter as an assembly with the sacrifice for the living and dead entrusted by Christ to us unto eternity? Is propitiation so frightening that we must hide from it at every turn?
The entire mystery of the Mass must be encountered, even in fear and trembling.
The question was asking what practices we currently have, not to name pre-Vatican II things that some believe we should keep doing.
At my parish, we have a Mass on All Soul’s for the dead of the parish. The last two years have been at the Saturday Vigil Mass. We have a sign company print up a scroll with the names of all the parishioners who died in the last year, which hangs up in the baptistry until Advent. At the All Soul’s Mass following the homily, the pastor reads the names of the dead, and a family member comes forth and lights a candle near the font. We’ve been using Carol Browning’s “We Remember” from GIA for the reading of the names. The candles remain lit through the weekend and then family members are welcome to take the candle home. We’re looking into doing a memorial area where people can bring in a small picture of any of their dead loved ones.
The question was asking what practices we currently have, not to name pre-Vatican II things that some believe we should keep doing.
Please answer the questions I have posed. These questions are relevant to the sacramental theology of Masses for the Dead, including the Masses of All Souls. The Dies Irae addresses these questions well.
Why do I have to answer your questions? This is a post on what parishes do for All Soul’s Day.
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W. W. O'Bryan
The question that should perhaps be asked is “Why are so many Catholics denied the full benefit of The Rite of Christian Funerals.” Especially since The Funeral Mass is the only liturgy that really requires a priest. Vigil Services are rare and not even the priests know much about them. I’ve never heard of any local parish offering to send even laypersons to sit with, to pray with, to celebrate a liturgy of the Word. Rarely are the prayers of the rite for after the person dies prayed, rarely the prayers at the viewing or reception of the body.
Seems like it’s mostly “why bother, they’re dead.” The excuse I hear from priests when I asked why there was no Vigil is: “nobody asked for it.” Conveniently leaving out the part that not many people know the Vigil service even exists.
It appears that some priests do not understand well the commendation of the dead either. This includes the in paradisum and the sprinkling of the casket. I was at a funeral where the priest sped-read through in paradisum and the final prayers before walking up with a stoup to the casket to give it a cursory sprinkle.
It appears that this subject is either not well taught in seminary or later ignored by priests.
The pastor read the names of the dead out at the 9:30 Mass on Sunday, interspersed with the Litany of the Saints, after incensing the Book of the Dead at the baptismal font.
Today for the intentions for Morning Prayer the prior asked us each to mention by name deceased Augustinians we knew, it was a gently litany of names, set into a spare and moving celebration of the Office for the Dead. (Today is the memorial for deceased members of the Order of St. Augustine.)
FWIW, the DIes Irae remains in the current ritual books of music for the Roman Rite – it’s not been suppressed like the sequences that Trent suppressed, IIRC – so it would currently count among the optional sequences (like those of Corpus Christi and Our Lady of Sorrows). I imagine there are some parishes that include it on request for OF funeral Masses.
@Karl Liam Saur – comment #10:
The Dies Irae has been suppressed as the sequence of the Mass and it does not appear, even as an option, in the missal. It has been moved to the Liturgy of the Hours as the office hymn for the last week in Ordinary Time. It is split into three parts to become the hymn for Office of Readings, Morning Prayer, and Evening Prayer.
But given the freedom in selecting songs and hymns as Mass ‘propers,’ I suppose one could use it as one of the songs at a funeral Mass. And if one appealed to a greater spirit of liturgical freedom since the reform, I suppose one could do it in the traditional spot though it would be contrary to the rubrics.
@Anthony Ruff, OSB – comment #11:
Not that anyone in a position to make such a change cares what I think, but allowing the Dies Irae as an optional sequence for funeral Masses and on All Souls would be on my list of desiderata for RM IV.
Yes please! I read an interesting excerpt from the “Liturgical Year” by Gueranger about the Sequence that I hadn’t thought about before. He mentions the inclusion of the Sequence in a penitential liturgy is odd since, by its nature, it belongs to an Alleluia. In fact, the Alleluia was sung during funeral liturgies before the change of the liturgy to resemble Holy Week. He (Gueranger) seems to think that in order to be consistent the Dies Irae ought to have been suppressed when the funeral liturgy was changed. The only reason he gives for its preservation is its artistic beauty (or by the fact that it was written by a Franciscan!…..just kiddding) I find this interesting because the Alleluia is back, and it seems proper to bring back its beautiful Sequence.
Because Dies irae is no longer a licit sequence we took advantage of our freedom to displace the proper offertory chant. The choir’s tempo wound up synching perfectly with the other actions at the Preparation so that the Dies irae finished just as the priest turned back to the altar from the lavabo.
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Paul Inwood
I know of a number of parishes who during the month of November hang down one of the side walls of the church a large ribbon for every parish member who died during the preceding twelve months. Each ribbon carries the name of the deceased, beautifully calligraphed. Towards the end of the month a special memorial Mass is held, during which all the names are read out, and at the end of the Mass friends and relatives are invited to take the ribbon off the wall and take it home with them. Many do this, and seem especially moved by this commemoration, which can then continue in the home if the ribbon is hung up there.
I can’t understand why anyone would want to use the wrath-fire-and-brimstone Sequence with all its pagan overtones (the Sybil, etc) for a celebration commemorating the dead. Seems pastorally completely inappropriate, however much it might have been part of the former “let’s-pounce-on-the-sinner-and-make-him-suffer” liturgical gloat-mentality.
Now that we celebrate in the vernacular, it is clear that there are better alternatives available.
It seems that this is the default critique of the Sequence. If we read the whole text we see that this is only part of it. In fact, there are many more stanzas that dwell on the mercy of Christ rather than fire and brimstone. Those lines begin with the Recordare Jesu pie.
@Paul Inwood – comment #16:
I consider myself a pretty wretched sinner and really, really want people to pray for me once I’m gone (before that as well, of course). I also consider God supremely merciful. Seems to me that the Dies Irae expresses both those things pretty clearly.
Perhaps the Dies Irae needs a substantial edit. It strikes me as appropriate for the ending weeks of Ordinary Time, and perhaps early Advent. Funerals not so much.
Our parish has a book of the dead. We keep it near the font with a lit Paschal Candle from All Saints through the 34th Sunday. We could do more, I think. Many of the people involved with the bereavement ministry in our parish have been adjusting to a change in staff oversight and the recent failed attempt to develop impetus for a columbarium.
Todd: Perhaps the Dies Irae needs a substantial edit. It strikes me as appropriate for the ending weeks of Ordinary Time, and perhaps early Advent. Funerals not so much.
Funerals quite so much! Few points in the reformed liturgical books emphasize the doctrinal fact that every Mass is for the dead, save perhaps for the memento of the Roman Canon. It is true that the reformed eucharistic prayers mention the dead in passing, but the strongest emphasis on the frailty of human existence should be emphasized during the requiem. The reforms copped-out by focusing on the resurrection over the mortality of fragile life, instead of present the two realities in equal measure. This why we have canonization-funerals and similar. The clergy themselves have forgotten the mortality of the flesh!
Yes, the Mass is also about the Paschal Mystery, and particularly the resurrection and life. We cannot have a propitiatory sacrifice without the promise that Christ has eternally defeated sin and has ensured eternal life. Still, the infrequent mention of the dead, and the general ban on the celebration of Mass specifically for them, has bleached out the essential death-aspect of the Mass from the faithful.
I realize that aspects of aggiornamento, and especially in the later phases of reform, sought to check the burgeoning postchristianity of Europe. To some degree, reform sought to bring those who had neglected church attendance back to observance. Why did this desire to gather the sheep back to the fold require a capitulation to a fear of death? Did the reformers doubt that people could withstand or even reflect upon mortality in the cycle of Mass? Reform, in its rush to focus on the resurrection, has forgotten that the agony of the Tree and Easter day inform one another.
@Jordan Zarembo – comment #21:
I’m in near total disagreement with you, Jordan. Isn’t it great we’re still both Catholic after all?
I have a few serious problems with using this text at a funeral. It’s a great piece of Latin poetry, but it is ill-used in the OCF.
Just one objection: there’s too much focus on the singer, and not so much for the already departed. I realize that first person singular is an acceptable biblical reference, and a lot of people these days bemoan the “me” or “us” in what we sing. Most of the stanzas? That suggests to me this sequence is better placed when there is not a single dead person being buried, when the faith community is face to face with its own mortality and need of Christ: November through early Advent.
Perhaps few books emphasize making intentions for the dead because it is a relatively minor point, like praying for the pope, bishop, and clergy. Perhaps intercessions for the dead belong elsewhere in the Mass. The memento of the Roman Canon is a duplication of the prayers that preceded the Liturgy of the Eucharist. That’s why the other anaphora in use today don’t include intentions as explicitly.
Your last paragraph makes no sense at all to me. I can only chalk it up to your subjective personal experience. The reformed rites for Christian funerals in no way capitulate to a fear of death. I’ll grant there are many clergy and pastoral ministers who blunder about when confronted with grief and loss. Such are cases in point for the value of regular spiritual direction, if not counseling. The problem is with ministers, not the rite.
I can think of a half-dozen psalms that are superior to the Dies Irae in capturing the nature of praising God, our status as creatures, and God’s mercy.
To be salvaged, the Dies Irae needs a total overhaul. Maybe there’s a reason it has been nearly abandoned, and rather than point at the flaws in others, we should examine more carefully the flaws in the works of our own…
It is indeed fascinating that Todd and I are both Catholic. Catholicism is a very, very big tent.
The basis for my statement “I realize that aspects of aggiornamento, and especially in the later phases of reform, sought to check the burgeoning postchristianity of Europe” resides in the reality that our [postchristian] age is one which is very fearful of death and seeks in vain to bury it in the memorialization of life. Supermarket tabloid-shelves are filled with magazines announcing the “Celebration of the Life of” a deceased celebrity, royal, or other public personality. Death, however, is as important a state of being as life. It cannot be plastered over with photographs and pages of text, for then life itself loses meaning.
The reformed rites do not neglect to mention mortality. You are right that that the reformed rites have not capitulated to a “fear of death” — this is admittedly my invective. Non-capitulation does not preclude expressing mortality in different ways, however. The reformed rites’ references to mortality, however, are based more in scriptural allusion than in the Tridentine funeral rite, which speaks to a very corporeal type of mortality. While many might consider scriptural allusion superior, I have often wondered if this shift from Tridentine corporeality is a result of a realization that the “modern man” could no longer withstand the unvarnished morbidity of Tridentine funerals. The new funeral rite, then, appeals in some way to a fear of mortality by recasting mortality through different metaphors.
@Jordan Zarembo – comment #23:
Possibly. It might also be that the Tridentine observance was too steeped in the macabre, and its rejection is along the lines of those who find horror and slash films distasteful. Perhaps the human fascination with death has surfaced in other ways in our culture, and that we really haven’t lost so much after all. Except respectability cloaked in religious ritual.
Death is indeed plastered into our lives: never before have we had so many choices of blood, cruelty, violence, and such. Maybe the OCF is more a counterweight to the impersonal presentation of gore. Maybe it’s a healthy Scripture-based approach to death, mercy, and final things. Without indulging the appearances that catch the eye, but not the heart.
Or it could be that higher survival rates from disease and childbirth have put death somewhat out of the experience of more families than ever before. Close friends of mine lost their third child to SIDS last week. I observe my friend’s avoidance in his insistence that Wednesday’s liturgy is not a funeral Mass, but a Mass of the Angels. That was a Tridentine feature, wasn’t it? Even then we Catholics sugar-coated our language and ritual.
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