Wednesday, January 14, 2026

Is the 1962/3 Office 'traditional'? Part I - Terms of the debate

Over the next few weeks I want to share some important new insights from recent research, as well as some of my own work, that I think throws new light on some contested issues around the history of the Office.  

In this, I want to particularly draw on the evidence of the oldest antiphoner for the Benedictine Office, which dates from the ninth century, and which has only very recently become accessible to researchers.

Are the 1962 books 'traditional?!

Before I do that though, prompted by what seems like round 500 of an ongoing debate in other places, I've decided to put out now some material I've been pondering for a while over, that perhaps serves to help translate some findings that have thus far largely been discussed in a purely academic context, into debates on the current practices of the Divine Office.

In what follows, I'm going to focus primarily on the Benedictine Office, but I'll try and draw out the implications for the Roman books as well.

Before we move back a millennia and more though, I want to take brief look at the increasingly loud campaign that claims that the 1962/3 Office books and Mass are not actually traditional, and are irredeemably bad news.

Instead, the 'restore the 54' crowd would have us ditch the currently approved Office books, such as the 1963 Benedictine breviary, altogether, in favour of those for the 1950s, or depending on which particular sub-group you subscribe to, some earlier date.

Some of the claims made around this topic seem to be causing considerable confusion amongst many well-intentioned people, and so I think, are worth scrutinising.

Shadow-boxing

Some of the recent agitation, I think, has been incited by Traditiones Custodes, and the  understandable fear that its supporters will ultimately win the day altogether, and succeed in officially banning the older forms of the liturgy altogether.  Unsurprisingly then, many are looking for ways to legitimately narrow the scope of papal authority in this area, and using the 1962 books as a test platform for this.

In other cases the overreach involved in the arguments made in support of the reforms made after Vatican II seem to have provoked an overreaction in the opposite direction: instead of everything in the liturgy being 'adapted to the times', as some spirit of Vatican IIists would like, some are now arguing that nothing at all can ever be changed, for example.

In some cases, I suspect, what we are seeing is just human nature playing out. Some, for example, seem to suffer from 'complexity bias', the belief that the more complex you make something, the better it is.

Others seem to have fallen victim to that syndrome whereby when a resistance or reform group's patience is tried sorely for long enough, the temptation is to forget about the real war, and turn on each other instead, claiming that only the pure can bring about victory.  

Legitimate debate vs liturgical abuse

Regardless of the root causes of this push though, I think it is important to note that the Church has long made distinctions between legitimate debate, which is what I hope we can have here; legitimate resistance to institutional overreach (a good example of which is the longstanding push to force Benedictine monasteries abandon the provisions of the Rule relating to the Office); special, usually emergency situations that sometimes justify disobedience; and outright rejection of the Church's law and authority.

The Code of Canon Law makes it clear for example that it is perfectly legitimate for laypeople to debate questions such as whether there are flaws in the 1962 books, and whether they should therefore be amended, or even replaced by something else altogether; or to debate questions of what the limits of papal authority in relation to the liturgy might be. provided one has sufficient expertise to do so.

And though anyone who says the Office may be able to follow many of these debates, contributing to some of them often requires some degree of genuine expertise and training, as they involve complex questions of canon law, theology, history, musicology and/or liturgy. 

I'm not a great believer in credentialism as such (never forget those liturgists who disparaged Pope Benedict XVIs credentials in this area!), preferring to judge things on their merits.  But at least one recent book in my view, seems to me to fail even the most basic requirements in this regard.

The book, (whose name I will withhold for the moment), is written by an anonymous married layperson who claims no theological or canon law qualifications whatsoever; presents a set of convoluted arguments he has dreamed up that are directly at odds with the clear consensus of canonists who are prepared to go on record as well as by dubia responses; and on the basis of this, urges individual priests to set about implementing what amounts to outright liturgical abuse. 

I do plan on coming back to some of the arguments included in the book by various author as well as the main text itself, but in the meantime I would direct those advocating for it to the following posts by actual canonists:

I would also recommend the clear treatment of the requirement to use the currently approved books in Beale's standard commentary on the Code. 

Obedience is a virtue

More fundamentally, what is not within the scope of legitimate debate, in my view, is to then act unilaterally to implement our personal theories.

It needs to be kept in mind, I think, that liturgy is ultimately something we receive, not decide on for ourselves: there is surely something to the old adage of 'say the black do the red' for example.

It is one thing, for example, to select an option from those officially approved; quite another to reject the officially approved books altogether without very strong reasons indeed. 

Priests and religious have more serious obligations in this regard, but even for laypeople who can arguably do whatever provided they choose to stick to purely devotional prayer, the Catholic, and particularly the Benedictine mindset, I think, should surely be to strive for obedience wherever possible, not look for ways to avoid it.

There are, of course, times when resistance or outright rejection of laws and particular liturgies is indeed warranted.

And there are also nuances in what constitutes legitimate variation, and who has the authority to authorise particular things.

But if an older book has been outright suppressed, as all of the Office books prior to the 1963 breviary have been; and if the traditional institutes and monasteries have long used the 1962 books, it is hard for me at least to see how refusing to accept them can be justified as an 'emergency'.  

Nor is it an argument in my view that 'everyone else is doing it' when it comes to liturgical 'innovation': we are all called, after all, to be saints, not join the throng going the other way!

Yet every day, it seems, a new book or blog post drops claiming that the forms of the Mass and Office accepted after due consideration by the original leaders of the traditionalist movement and their successors, and used now for many years should be rejected, or that this or that particular element of the Office and Mass cannot be changed by mere papal legislation (despite a very long history indeed of Popes doing just that).

Singing the Office in 525 and 2025…

Let me conclude this opening post by seeking to put the debate over the 1962 books in a longer perspective.

Part of the problem, I think, is that the debate has largely focused on the Roman books, whose place in tradition is rather harder to pin down than the Benedictine.

In these weeks after the Epiphany, for example, using the 1963 breviary (or the other books used for it, such as the Antiphonale of 1934, and the Monastic Diurnal) we are saying the same hours, with the same components that make up them, in the same order, as St Benedict laid out in his Rule dating from circa 510-30 AD. 

The contents of the Roman Office, it is true, were not documented until much later, and are ordered somewhat differently.  Some, such as hymns were added even later still. But it is clear the core elements of the Roman office too have ancient roots.

In the 1963 Office we are also saying exactly the same psalms and ferial canticles that St Benedict specified should be said at each hour of each day.  

When it comes to the psalms, it should be noted, the 1962 Roman Office, which has always had a somewhat different psalm ordering to the Benedictine, is in a slightly different situation - its ancient psalm cursus, which almost certainly dates back to at least the late sixth century, was suppressed in 1911.  Even so, it still follows the same basic principle of saying all of the psalms each week.

In the Benedictine Office too, we are singing ancient hymns that mostly date from the fourth to seventh centuries in their original form, with later additions for some feasts and saints.  And we have been spared the neo-classicised versions imposed on the Roman Office by Pope Urban VIII in 1632 that left barely a single line of these ancient gems intact. 

At Matins, we are reading the same books of the Bible that are laid out in an early to mid-eighth century reform of the ferial Matins reading cycle, with many of the same responsories that are recorded as being in use some 1100 years or more ago. 

So how can all this be ‘untraditional’? 

There seem to be two main camps (with some overlap between them) in this argument.

The first camp defends its position largely on the basis of changes to the 1962 books that unwind some high to late medieval practices, drawing primarily (and somewhat ironically in my view), on the liturgical scholarship of the twentieth century.  That scholarship, just as for the Mass, sought to find the elusive holy grail of the original, pure Roman Office, and claimed to find it in a set of manuscripts that mostly date from the twelfth century onwards. Recent scholarship though, has severely challenged or outright overturned many of those conclusions.

The second camp is rather more focused on recent history, and aimed at 'restoring the 54' in particular because, it seems, inter alia, they reject the views of the assorted popes (and/or those associated with them) who promulgated assorted liturgical 'reforms' from the late 1950s onwards.  But we should judge reforms on their merits in my view, and not on such arbitrary criteria.

But more on all this anon.

Saturday, April 19, 2025

Holy week and the Benedictine Office Pt 5 - Holy Saturday and the Benedictine Office

Fra Angelico: Harrowing of hell

I mentioned earlier in this series that the Sunday 'Resurrection Vigil' of the Benedictine Office contains psalms that arguably point us to the events of Holy Saturday: Psalm 21 describes the Passion, while Psalm 22 (the Lord is my shepherd) and Psalm 23 (Lift up your gates) takes us to Holy Saturday.

As for the other days of the Triduum, the normal weekly Office of Saturday in the Benedictine Office is arguably devoted to a more prolonged exposition of some of the themes of Christ resting in the tomb (itself prefigured by God 'resting' after the days of creation) and descent into hell, in its psalms.  

The theology of Holy Saturday

The Western Church has traditionally made much less of Christ's lying in the tomb and descent into hell than the East - there are no liturgical events prescribed around these events other than Tenebrae of Holy Saturday for example.

And in more recent times, even the triumphant nature of Christ's descent into hell, freeing the souls therein, has been downplayed or outright rejected in the theology of modern theologians following Hans von Balthasar, as Alyssa Pitstick has demonstrated.

There is, however, an excellent post for today over at Gloria Romanorum, on the Scriptural references and early Patristic expositions of the theology of the day, which you can read here.

The Benedictine Office

Saturday Matins in the Benedictine Office opens with Psalm 101, one of the penitential psalms, ans which contrasts the pitful state of the sinner with with Lord:

My days have declined like a shadow, and I am withered like grass. But thou, O Lord, endurest for ever: and thy memorial to all generations. Thou shalt arise and have mercy on Sion: for it is time to have mercy on it, for the time is come. 

 Most of the psalms that follow include references to Christ's saving mission, liberation from darkness and and our redemption from death.  Several of them once again recapitulate the history of the freeing of the people of Israel, with Psalm 106's summation echoing Psalm 2:

 Et edúxit eos de ténebris, et umbra mortis: * et víncula eórum disrúpit.
And he brought them out of darkness, and the shadow of death; and broke their bonds in sunder.
Quia contrívit portas æreas: * et vectes férreos confrégit.
Because he has broken gates of brass, and burst iron bars.

At Kauds the only variable psalm is Psalm 142, and it is clear why it was early thought appropriate to the day, with its allusions to Hades:

2  Et non intres in judícium cum servo tuo: * quia non justificábitur in conspéctu tuo omnis vivens.
And enter not into judgment with your servant: for in your sight no man living shall be justified.
3  Quia persecútus est inimícus ánimam meam: * humiliávit in terra vitam meam.
For the enemy has persecuted my soul: he has brought down my life to the earth.
4  Collocávit me in obscúris sicut mórtuos sæculi : * et anxiátus est super me spíritus meus, in me turbátum est cor meum.
He has made me to dwell in darkness as those that have been dead of old: And my spirit is in anguish within me: my heart within me is troubled.

It ends with an even more pertinent set of verses:

12  Spíritus tuus bonus dedúcet me in terram rectam: * propter nomen tuum, Dómine, vivificábis me, in æquitáte tua.
Your good spirit shall lead me into the right land: For your name's sake, O Lord, you will quicken me in your justice.
13  Edúces de tribulatióne ánimam meam: * et in misericórdia tua dispérdes inimícos meos.
You will bring my soul out of trouble: And in your mercy you will destroy my enemies.
14  Et perdes omnes, qui tríbulant ánimam meam, * quóniam ego servus tuus sum.
And you will cut off all them that afflict my soul: for I am your servant.

It is at the Benedictine version of Prime though, that the connections are perhaps made clearest.

The second half of Psalm 17, which opens the day, for example says:

Quóniam tu pópulum húmilem salvum fácies: * et óculos superbórum humiliábis.
For you will save the humble people; but will bring down the eyes of the proud.
4 Quóniam tu illúminas lucérnam meam, Dómine: * Deus meus, illúmina ténebras meas.
For you light my lamp, O Lord: O my God, enlighten my darkness.
5  Quóniam in te erípiar a tentatióne, * et in Deo meo transgrédiar murum.
For by you I shall be delivered from temptation; and through my God I shall go over a wall.


Psalm 18 includes a verse which though often applied to Our Lord's Incarnation, also applies to his descent into hell and Resurrection:

5  In sole pósuit tabernáculum suum: * et ipse tamquam sponsus procédens de thálamo suo.
He has set his tabernacle in the sun: and he as a bridegroom coming out of his bridechamber,
6  Exsultávit ut gigas ad curréndam viam, * a summo cælo egréssio ejus.
Has rejoiced as a giant to run the way: His going out is from the end of heaven,
7  Et occúrsus ejus usque ad summum ejus: * nec est qui se abscóndat a calóre ejus.
And his circuit even to the end thereof: and there is no one that can hide himself from his heat.

And Psalm 19's concluding verse, O Lord save the King, is a prediction of the Resurrection, which St Benedict's contemporary Cassiodorus explained as meaning, 'Let Christ the Lord rise from the dead, ascend into heaven, and intercede for us'.

Towards the Resurrection

Although Saturday Vespers is, of course, First Vespers of Sunday, the psalms for Saturday Vespers appear at first glance to simply reflect the logical continuation of the numerical sequence of psalms: St Benedict assigns the second half of Psalm 144 and the following psalms up to 147; Psalms 148 to 150 having already been assigned to their traditional place at Lauds.

All the same, the idea that Saturday Vespers was part of the Sunday was already well established by St Benedict's time.  Pope Leo the Great (c400-461), for example, wrote that:

the beginning of the preceding night forms part of that period [Sunday], and undoubtedly belongs to the day of resurrection as is clearly laid down with regard to the feast of Easter... the day of the Lord's resurrection, which is commonly held to begin on the evening of Saturday...

In this light, it is intriguing that all of the psalms that St Benedict allocated to the hour have clear associations with the Resurrection in early Christian interpretation. 

And it is even more intriguing that the psalm psalms seem to have been used in the weekly vigil of the Resurrection as celebrated in Jerusalem from at least the fourth century onwards, with the 'antiphon' beginning denoted by the same antiphon anciently used in the Benedictine Office, viz verse 13, which announces the establishment of Christ's Kingdom:

Regnum tuum regnum ómnium sæculórum: et dominátio tua in omni generatióne et generatiónem. (Your kingdom is a kingdom of all ages: and your dominion endures throughout all generations.)

Could it be that the selection of Vespers psalms was retrofitted backwards from this?

Either way, as we participate in the greatest of all vigils tonight, that of Easter, let us pray that may Christ reign in all hearts, and may you have a joyous Easter!

And of your charity, if you will, would you say a prayer for the repose of the soul of my mother Mary, who died peacefully in the Lord earlier this week after a long illness.