FEATURE
A visitor comes to the Oratory Jeremy Boot introduces a Muslim colleague to the beauties of the Traditional Mass
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felt quite privileged to be able to take a colleague to High Mass at the Birmingham Oratory a few months ago. It was at his request. He had heard me speak in our conversations about the beauty of the Masses I attended there. Could he perhaps attend one? Of course. I said ‘privileged’ a moment ago because my colleague is a practising Muslim. Seeing the familiar through a stranger’s eyes as a visitor or guest, is always informative. He knew Birmingham from years before but had never been inside the big church on Hagley Road. Fortuitously the feast day, quite by chance, after juggling to find a suitable date for the visit, was that of St Michael the Archangel, known and venerated in both religions and for similar reasons. This was a good common link to start from. One could not find a better place than the Oratory, with its high standards of liturgy and music. For many who can travel there, often from some distance, it is an oasis of what things should be in a Catholic Church, without the irritations or odd practices that beset some liturgies elsewhere. I thought at least the cultural aspects, such as architecture or beautiful music would appeal to my friend. It was fair to assume he had never seen or heard of a High Mass. We had discussed religion before on many subjects, finding rather more in common than some would suppose, but with no illusions on either side that there were differences. Truth to tell, I would not have been too surprised if he had called the whole thing off, as too bold a step, but he didn’t. There is no point being too set upon explanations of the theology of the Mass. This would be the wrong place to start. A High Mass is very visual, full of ritual and symbolism, and I was sure
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that the liturgy would speak for itself and tell its own story, even to someone who had never seen it before. It didn’t disappoint. I suggested we shared a Missal, to follow the prayers if he wished, and if not, I was keen to see what his observation would be. He was quite happy to stand and sit with everyone else too, rather than observe from afar. I promised him no-one would be trying to interact or disturb him. No professional hand-shakers here. Having entered the church, he seemed pleasantly surprised at the interior: colour, layout and so on. I showed him some of the detail: altars, mosaics, the layout of the place; statues, chapels etc. People queuing for Confession too, which always fascinates a nonCatholic. People would enter the church, genuflect, nod or acknowledge each other, but without the chatter and noise which seems to have become the norm elsewhere. That in itself communicates the impression of a special and sacred place, not just a theatre audience waiting for the first act to begin. Mass started with the usual procession of ministers in fine vestments, their courtesy evident to each other (bows etc); holy water at the Asperges made its impression that we were all to be included. Preparation at the foot of the altar, bowing at the Confiteor shows penance and preparation. Incense, sweet-smelling, clouds rising to the heights is a very visual thing. Eventually as the choir finished the Introit, the ministers were starting their duties at the altar itself. Kyrie and Gloria led to Collect and Epistle and Gospel. The Gospel procession, the receiving of the book by the deacon, kissing of hands, the incense (again), blessing and people standing attentively to hear what was
to be read to them – and in a special language with solemnity - was so clearly an announcement of something that mattered. The sermon, in English, touched on many common themes relating to St Michael the Archangel. The prayer indeed to St Michael, excluding the brief doxology, could easily have been used by either religion (“...defend us in the day of battle, be our safeguard again the wickedness and snares of the devil…”). The Credo done, the Offertory, with its ‘busy-ness’, presentation of elements, incensation of ministers and people, the washing of hands and the intonation of the Preface give clear signals of progress. The whole church then kneels as a body at the Sanctus with eyes attentive to what is about to happen. That is dramatic in its way (not perhaps that we always see it as such). Not for nothing was western theatre inspired by the liturgy. Then the precious silence at the Canon - far from inactive visually, for those who would observe, with its many gestures, blessings, genuflections and signs of the cross. Then the Consecration and Elevations make sense of the silence and bring the action to a climax. The sight of so many receiving Communion, not in a worldly way, but kneeling at altar rails and receiving from a priest on the tongue makes its impression too. I had made no attempt to explain transubstantiation, but really everything about Mass seen by an outsider for the first time, makes the understanding of at least the Holy and holy things clear in its own way. Impressed by more music, and a prayer for the Queen too (Domine salvam fac) and then a great thump of organ for the recessional, and the job was done. On the way out I introduced him to the parish priest, who welcomed
SPRING 2020
