Sunday, 30 June 2013

The demise of the Filipino chant books: Part I

This is the first part of a five-part string of posts.



Chant in the Catholic world

As there are more qualified authors who have already written about the origins of chant, in particular, we have Dr. William Mahrt, President of the Church Music Association of America (CMAA), we skip this part (though, if you want, you can read about the third paragraph of this piece) and proceed to describing the atmosphere of sacred music before Gregorian chant became the lord and master of chant in the Latin Rite.

After Luther put Christendom asunder with a schism, princes professing different confessions became the norm, for which we have the dictum: Cuius regio, eius religio. In the case of chant, which is altogether a different province of discussion, we have: Cuius cultus, eius cantus.

Whose worship, his chant.

Before the time alluded above in the first paragraph, there used to be huge variety of chant traditions in Western Christendom: Mozarabic chant in Christian Spain; Gallican chant in Christian France; Roman chant in Christian Rome; Ambrosian chant in Christian Milan; Celtic chant in Christian Britain; Beneventan chant in Christian Beneventum. Secular and ecclesiastic temperaments of the time, however, gradually paved the way to the marginalisation other chant traditions, which made a conscious and concerted effort in instituting Gregorian chant as the normative chant of the Roman Church.

Pride of place, we realise, is not a Vatican II idea. The survival of other chant traditions is to us very welcome. The prestige of Saint Ambrose of Milan helped keep Ambrosian chant alive, perhaps coupled by what is implicit in the words of this very same Doctor of the Church: While in Rome, do as the Romans do (that is: While in Milan, do as the Milanese do). Beneventan chant persisted in Monte Casino for some time until it was finally supplanted by Gregorian chant. Roman chant itself, becoming casualty to the Avignon captivity, became less favoured amongst the Popes after the return of the papacy to Rome. The same fate, in different circumstances, was precipitated upon the other Western chant traditions.

In Spain, we have the Reconquista which dealt the fatal blow to Mozarabic chant.

La rendición de Granada
Francisco Pradilla y Ortiz
(source)

What replaced it in practically all places where it used to be sung was Gregorian chant (which even replaced the proper chant of Rome, now called Old Roman chant). Later efforts to preserve or restore Mozarabic chant in some enclaves in Toledo achieved only a sort of fusion of the two chant traditions, which could be interpreted as the imposition of Gregorian practice over Mozarabic chant. In the rest of Spain, Gregorian chant probably became the norm, albeit assuming a Hispanic character.

Over the centuries, Gregorian chant, as mentioned, degenerated into severe abbreviations. Sometimes the text was sung in the melisma to save time, and which over time became galvanised in our chant books, resulting to the eventual replacement of the authentic tunes with the shortened one. This was what the Benedictine of Solesmes sought to stop, in order to restore the authentic melodies of the Church. The work of the Solesmes monks found its greatest champion in Pope Saint Pius X. Before Solesmes published its books, the liturgical books of the Church were mainly printed in Regensburg in Germany. We can call these books the Pustet lineage of chant books, which eventually the Solesmes lineage would replace, books published in Tournai in Belgium.

Thus, Gregorian chant, having been diffused throughout the Catholic world, suffered oversimplification and corruption. It would sometimes happen that in two countries where Gregorian chant is used, the music for the same chant do not coincide. In the years preceding the restoration of the authentic melodies of Gregorian chants, German bishops fought to secure the primacy of the German chant tradition over that of the Solesmes school. They would write letters to the Pope and to the Sacred Congregation of Rites asking for clarifications concerning the status of their own chant vis-à-vis the restored chant. They would issue pastoral letters informing their parishioners of any favourable response from the See of Peter.

Why so?

Because Gregorian chant in Germany was quite distinct. It even has its own notation system that, while similar to Gregorian notation, is not quite like it. We have an example of this notation from the Klosterneuburger Graduale for the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Introit for the Feast of the Nativity of the B.V.M.
Klosterneuburger Graduale

Let us compare this with the chant from the Liber usualis. [Note. This is now the current Gregorian notation, fixed around the 1930’s, as used by the monks of Solesmes. The notation that persists in the universal Church today, which has the ictus, came from an earlier scholarship.]

Introit for the Feast of the Nativity of the B.V.M.
Liber usualis (1903)

We can see the slight differences: in the first neume in Gregorian chant, the second podatus reaches up only until mi while that in German chant until fa; the neume on the last syllable of puérpera in Gregorian chant is a podatus subbipunctis, whereas in German chant it is a torculus; in the first syllable of Régem, we have in Gregorian chant a clivis and a porrectus forming a pressus, whereas in German chant, we have a bistropha subbipunctis resupinus or a stropha and a climacus resupinus forming a pressus.

In theory, these small differences are what the German bishops wanted to preserve. We cannot, of course, write off the patriotic and nationalistic rhetoric with which the Germans resisted imposition of what might be deemed as French-ness.

If we were at the same time optimistic and blind, we would have invoked the sacrosanct words which have become byword in the contemporary Church: Unity in diversity. Alas, this could not hold ground in the issue of corrupted chant. For there can be no unity in chant when the chant itself is imperfect and impaired. Here we recall the wisdom of Pope Saint Pius X in Tra le sollectudini:
La musica sacra deve per conseguenza possedere nel grado migliore le qualità che sono proprie della liturgia e precisamente la santità e la bontà delle forme, onde sorge spontaneo l’altro carattere, che è l’universalità.
Universality proceeds from both holiness and excellence of form.

Hoc est ternarium musicae sacrae signum.

Saturday, 29 June 2013

The demise of the Filipino chant books

We will be posting some general observations on the great chant books in the Philippine archipelago, attempting along the way to document how they might have reached their current status of disuse and of being a sad museum staple, and their varying status of disrepair and completeness.

We shall be prefacing these posts with this mark


which is a warning that they contain personal opinions.

The posts will be divided into parts:

I. Chant in the Catholic world
II. Sacred music in Catholic Philippines
III. Gregorian Restoration
IV. Desuetude
V. Present studies

We will be updating this post to include links to the individual posts themselves.

Sunday, 23 June 2013

The occasional banter

Question

Why is there no octave for Saint John the Baptist?
 
Answer

Because he already has do-re-mi!
 
question by Siniculus
answer by † M. J. B. Z.

Wednesday, 19 June 2013

Catholic customs from the eyes of Rizal

Let’s face it. Sometime in our humdrum lives, we have wondered how a mother might have felt expelling a future hero out of her womb in one of her eleven pregnancies. We know an adjective that aptly describes this experience: excruciating. Doña Teodora Morales Alonso y Quintos, dutiful wife of Don Francisco Engracio Rizal Mercado y Alejandro, encountered this adjective in all its un-anaesthetised ruthlessness in the night of Wednesday, 19 June 1861.

Doña Teodora, who can already be considered a veteran mother at that time, underwent a protracted and difficult labour while giving birth to her seventh child and second son, because of his unusually large head. In the throes of childbirth, Doña Teodora pledged the child to the Virgin of Antipolo, and vowed to bring the child in a pilgrimage to her sanctuary. It would take seven years for Doña Teodora’s pledge to be fulfilled, when the child José travelled with Don Francisco to the shrine of the Virgin of Antipolo. We can only imagine him singing María, bella estrella de Antipolo.

Three days later, in the morning of Saturday, 22 June 1861, amidst band music (owing to the presence of two bands in Calamba for a local festival, probably the antevísperas of the town fiesta in honour of Saint John the Baptist, titular of the Church of Calamba), P. Rufino Collantes, parish priest of Calamba, baptised the three-day-old child as José Rizal Mercado, his godfather being P. Pedro Casañas. Both priests were presbíteros (the usual term for native secular priests) and were friends of the family. Noticing the large head of the infant, P. Collantes counselled the parents to take good care of the child, for someday he would become a great man.

The parents picked the name José because Doña Teodora was a devotee of Saint Joseph, and probably because Wednesday is the traditional votive day of Saint Joseph. His second name Protasio was taken from the calendar. The principal saint for 19 June is Saint Juliana of Falconieri (the child could have been named Julián), and Saints Gervase and Protase are just commemorated on the day, according to the 1857 Missale Romanum. In the Dominican calendar, however, the twin saints, protectors of the City and of the See of Milan, are honoured.

[Note. There were only two known feasts of Saint Joseph at that time, one on 19 March, honouring him as Spouse of the Blessed Virgin, and another on the Third Sunday after Easter (in 1861, this fell on 21 April), honouring him as Patron of the Church, which eventually was transferred to the Wednesday within the Third Week of Easter, and then suppressed. Currently, his other feast is 1 May, honouring him as both Workman and Patron of the Church.]

Now, let’s indulge ourselves with a short diatribe against one of the many fantastic reasons our millenarian Rizalist compatriots propound to advance their dogma on the divinity of Rizal. They say that José Rizal is the Spanish equivalent of their Latin tetragrammaton Jove Rex Al. Only two of these three words exist in Latin and only one is declined in the nominative. Jove or, correctly, Iove, as explained here, is the ablative of Iuppiter, the chief Roman deity. Rex means king, and Al is the chemical symbol of aluminium.

For some Rizalists, Jove Rex Al summarises the Supreme Being that created the world, having bestowed upon it the non-existent meaning of God King of All, while in reality it just takes the meaning, and this with many linguistic misgivings, of With Jupiter, King of Aluminium. If Rizal were a deity, he would have at least revealed his name in the correct declension. Or, perhaps, this name is expressed in a language isolate waiting to be discovered.

In any case, let’s now go to his works.


Rizal’s novels
Rizal’s writings explored many religious themes, and in his two novels, we read of processions, sermons, Solemn High Masses, Requiems, indulgences, hellfire, Christmas, etc. Noli me tangere, itself is thought to be taken from the admonition of Christ to Mary Magdalene in John 20:17, although it seems more appropriate, taking into account Rizal’s dedication for the book, that he took the name from a malady of the eye that restricts eyesight, a cancer known to ophthalmologists as, well, noli me tangere.

We shall not be tackling the Noli and the Fili here, both of which have been translated into many languages. Probably, except Latin. So, we shall be exposing an excerpt of a partial translation of these two books into the language of the Eternal City.

The Noli
Noli me tangere is cancer of the eyelids. This was noted by the French writer Dominique Blumenstihl (read here the original French):
Noli me tangere (Touch me not) is the name which ophthalmologists give to the cancer of the eyelids. It is also the name of a flower, the touch-me-not balsam (Impatiens noli-tangere). When this flower attains maturity, at the slightest shock, the capsules suddenly shrink and their valves retract projecting the seeds around them. It is also the title of the famous novel of the ophthalmologist José Rizal.
According to A manual of the diseases of the human eye, among the maladies of the eyelids that can be considered noli me tangere are the scirrhus palpebrae, the cancer palpebrae, and the malignant chalazion.

The book was published in 1886 by the Berliner Buchdruckerie-Aktiengesellschaft in Berlin, Germany.


Front of Noli me tangere
(source)



The Fili
El Filibusterismo was published in 1896 by the Imprimerie F. Meyer-Van Loo in Ghent, Belgium. Filibusterismo refers to the act or the whole system of being a filibustero, which refers to a pirate, a plunderer, or a freebooter. The use of the term in the novel suggests that it carries the meaning of subversivism or subversion, and is perhaps used to describe the actions of the main character Simuon, who advances the interests of the government in order to incite the people to rebellion. He plunders and assists in plundering them in order to achieve his ultimate objectives. We note in Rizal’s letter to Blumentritt that the term was not yet widespread in the Philippines at the time of the novel’s printing.


Front of El Filibusterismo
(source)



The Makamisa
Unbeknownst to many, Rizal wrote a third novel, and did not complete it. It exists in two drafts: one in Tagalog; another in Spanish. Rizal scholarship has decided to call this novel, based upon the title of the Tagalog draft, Makamisa, which roughly means after Mass. The folios of the Spanish draft are not arranged coherently, and give any enterprising researcher freedom in arranging the material to produce a sensible bulk of text. We have two published versions of this novel: one in English, with the Tagalog draft, by Ambeth Ocampo; another in Filipino, translated from Spanish, by Nilo Ocampo. The two Ocampos are not related.

In the spirit of uniformity, below is an excerpt of the novel (with its Latin translation), arranged by this author.

Front of Makamisa
(from this author)


The plot of Makamisa hinges upon the discomfiture of the Spanish friar who is the curate of the town of Pili, discomfiture which impels the friar to refuse Communion to the people and push the missal during the principal Mass on Passion Sunday. He is apparently upset because Cecilia, the town mayor’s daughter who just arrived from Manila, refused to make the palm frond that he would carry during the procession of palms on Palm Sunday. This happenstance shakes the town mayor’s household, the town, and even the church.


Observations in Makamisa
Communion
Frequent Communion beforehand meant receiving Communion once or twice a week. Usually, devotees receive Communion on their votive days. For example, in old almanaques, devotees of the Sacred Heart are required to receive Communion every First Friday. Mass-produced (ignore the pun) hosts were not yet available in those times. Priests make their own hosts, and we have existing examples of host tongs, known as hostiario throughout the archipelago, in some of our ecclesiastic museums, with which priests moulded and formed their hosts.
The Parish Priest therefore assumeth all his care, in treating, preserving and administering with the appropriate worship and reverence this venerable Sacrament; and also in that his parishioners might adore it with devotion, and may receive it in a holy manner and frequently, principally on greater solemnities of the year: for this he shall remind them many times of the preparation, the greater veneration and interior respect and the humble posture, with which they ought to approach such a divine Sacrament; and that, having went to sacramental confession and fasting at least since midnight, the might adore humbly and both knees knelt the Sacrament, and receive it with reverence, the men separated from the women, whenever it be possible.
In learning that the curate of Pili did not distribute Communion on Passion Sunday because one lady refused to make his palm frond, we are acquainted with the capriciousness with which Rizal wanted us to behold the friar, notwithstanding the esteem with which his parishioners and confreres accord him.

Blessing of children
At the beginning of the narrative, we read of an unwed mother who works as servant in the household of the town mayor. Upon her neck constantly breathes the town mayor’s wife, who believes that she and her daughter are bringing bad luck to the house. She induces the poor lass to loan money from her to have the child blessed by the parish priest. The mayor’s wife particularly detests the child, knowing that it is her legitimate granddaughter from her son who is currently in the seminary, thinking that it is the Devil’s cunning way to railroad her son’s ecclesiastic career. We are left to conjecture if she wants her granddaughter blessed out of pure hatred or out of some little concern for the child’s spiritual wellbeing.

The blessing of children purposes to impart upon the child the protection of God, and extend the blessing unto the parents and the entire household. This is different from the churching of women, which is an emulation of the example of the Blessed Virgin’s submission to the Old Law. For this blessing, Rizal regales us with the tariff or cost that covers the trouble for the priest and for the candle.

The rubrics in the Manual de Manila does not speak of any taper that is kindled during this blessing. We have the rubrics below:
On the determined day and time, the children gather in the church, and it would be appropriate that thither their parents or their teachers accompany them, that without difficulty they be ordered in modesty and silence, and the boys being separated from the girls. The Priest approacheth them, and addresseth them with a brief and simple admonition, in accordance with what might appear suitable to him.
Then follow the prayers, after which, we read the rubric below:
Afterwards, making upon them the sign of the cross with the right hand, he blesseth them.
And after the blessing:
Finally, he sprinkleth them with blessed water in the form of a cross.
No mention of taper whatsoever.

[Note. It is normal for candles to be very expensive in those days since the Church, striving to set aside for God only the best, only approved candles made of unadulterated matter, namely, pure beeswax, no admixtures of other oils. Pure beeswax candles remain to be very expensive even to this day. A six-piece set of one-metre altar candles, nowadays, made with 10% beeswax costs around PhP 10,000, and that’s just 10% in purity.]

Altar decorations
Here we read of the cortina, the traditional velvet curtain hung around the high altar on great solemnities, such as Easter and Corpus Christi. This is a very prevalent practice in the Philippines and we are not lacking of old photographs to support this observation. But the curtain does not remain open. In the novel, we read of the curtain dropping as the priest exits the sanctuary after Mass. In the Manual de Manila, in the context of Corpus Christi devotions, we read concerning the curtain:
In the evenings, after praying the Rosary, singing the Litany of Loreto and the Salve, the Tantum ergo is sung, as is said above, and having concluded the Prayer, if the reservation is not of the last day, or if it is of a single exposition during Mass, the Priest knelt upon the lowest step, censeth the Sacrament, until the curtain closeth in its entirety.
Below we have a picture of the cortina used in the old Church of Antipolo:

High altar with cortina
(source)

The cloth is suspended from a crown above the sanctuary and allowed to hang and drape in magnificent folds, as though it were the backdrop for royal heraldic arms. Sans the cortina, the altar looked like this:

High altar without cortina
(source)

Consider the crown suspended in the photo. It is above the domed niche where the image of the Blessed Virgin is enshrined. Also note that the altarpiece is visible in the second picture while it is completely covered by a dark cloth in the first picture. However, it must be noted that the first picture is not taken during Holy Week since the chandeliers are not covered in purple.

Church music
The opening of the novel places the events on Passion Sunday, the day when images are veiled in purple, evoking the Gospel of the day:
But Jesus hid Himself and went out of the temple (John 8:59).
During Lent, the music of the organ and other instruments are suppressed in deference to the penitential nature of the season. But in the novel, we read of an orchestra playing for the Mass. We even hear of the bells pealing, at a time when only the crotalus is allowed. We cannot guess if Rizal is using liturgical abuse to foreshadow another abuse, or he is simply describing the widespread practice in the Philippine Church.


We are not pretending here to appraise and evaluate Rizal’s view on the popular pieties that the Church tolerated in those eras (although we can gather enough from his mention of the Holy Week devotions that abounded in Pili as las desgracias de la cuaresma).They are to us, who are currently faced with a dearth of rubrics, guidebooks and photographic documentation, a small snippet into what actually happened inside our churches back then, something which the ease of the modern SLR camera could no longer capture or immortalise. These help us appreciate some of the curious appurtenances of our high altars and sanctuaries, breathe meaning to otherwise lifeless phrases such as decoration for Corpus Christi, induce us to imagine religious scenes in our minds and interpret them afresh under the mantle of tradition, and allow us to see, amidst the subtly satiric yet vibrant language of a compatriot, burnished by years of misguided elaborations and pseudo-authoritative additions, and galvanised by a resurrected sense of secular superiority over the Church, the richness of our Catholic patrimony.

Sunday, 16 June 2013

Primera misa del protopresbítero petrofraterno filipino en su tierra natal

Nos sentimos muy gozosos en este día, principio de la sagrada novena del Santísimo Precursor Sr. San Juan Bautista, cuando celebró su primer misa en su tierra natal el recién ordenado en el sagrado sacerdocio Pbro. Anthony Uy de la preclara Fraternidad Sacerdotal de San Pedro, chinesco llevando gafas, alto y algo flaco en lo actual, alumno del Ateneo, natural de la provincia de Batangas, de qué razón fue muy propicio que allí su primer misa en las Islas se celebrara, y ¿dónde sea más digno que la celebrase que en la Basílica de la Inmaculada Concepción? Aquella basílica mariana está ubicada en la ciudad de Batangas so la Arquidiócesis de Lipá.


El preste
En esta época cuando encontramos a unos jesuitas filipinos que tam privatim quam publice no se avergüenzan desobedecer a la Santa Sede, también a la mayoría de los alumnos de su universidad bien dispuestos tanto a la conciencia del mundo empapado de errores como a su ambiguo enseñamiento, es una cosa muy deleitable, casi celestial, y tan placentera conocerle a este verdadero católico que viene del ahora adolorido seno de la institución educativa de los hijos de San Ignacio.


Pbro. Anthony Uy, F.S.S.P., antes la misa

Matriculaba y cursaba en física e ingeniería en computación en la actual Universidad Ateneo de Manila, mas en el medio del primer semestre de su tercer año, habiendo inmigrado al Canadá la familia, completó sus estudios allá.

Después de licenciado y una breve estancia en el mundo empresarial, entró en el Seminario de la Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe en Denton, Nebraska en los EE.UU. Le ordenó al subdiaconato Su Excelencia Fabian Bruskewitz, Obispo de Lincoln en Nebraska, en el antedicho Seminario el sábado dentro la semana tercera de la Epifanía, 28 de enero del año pasado, fiesta de San Pedro Nolasco.
 
[segundo de la derecha] subdiaconato: 28 de enero del 2012
(fuente)

Le ordenó al diaconato Su Excelencia Alexander K. Sample, Obispo de Marquette en Michigan, también en el antedicho Seminario el sábado dentro la semana tercera de Cuaresma, 17 de marzo de aquel año, también fiesta de San Patricio.


[tercer de la izquierda] diaconato: 17 de marzo del 2012
(fuente)


Le ordenó al sacerdocio Su Excelencia James D. Conley, actual Obispo de Lincoln, sucesor del Monseñor Bruskewitz, en la Catedral de Jesús Resucitado el sábado dentro la semana primera después de la octava del Pentecostés, 1 de junio de este año, fiesta de Santa Ángela Merici.


[tercer de la izquierda] sacerdocio: 1 de junio del 2013
(fuente)


Celebró su primer misa el viernes, 7 de junio, fiesta del Sacratísimo Corazón de Jesús, en la Iglesia de la Sagrada Familia, su propia parroquia en Canadá, diaconado por el Pbro. Erik Deprey y subdiaconado por el Pbro. Daniel Geddes, ambos de la F.S.S.P. Predicó en esta misa Su Excelencia J. Michael Miller, C.S.B., Arzobispo de Vancouver, que dentro el sermón anunció que será coadjutor de la parroquia el oficiante recién ordenado.


Primera misa: 7 de junio del 2013
(fuente)



Aquí tenemos las fotos de la mismísima misa y la función que la siguió.

[Erratum. Celebró el P. Uy su primer misa, una misa solemne, o según lo dice en Filipinas, misa de tres, el domingo, 2 de junio, en el Monasterio Carmelita de Jesús, María y José en Valparaíso, Nebraska. La misa fue de la solemnidad externa del Corpus. Acá está la hermana del nuevo preste, la Sor María Dolores de la Preciosa Sangre, carmelita descalza, que le ayudaba durante su curso en el Seminario con rezos y preces. He aquí el relato y las fotos.]


La basílica
Algo romanesca su fachada y algo barroca su torre, no más conserva la iglesia, cruciforme en plano, su original paletada, mas aún la simpleza noble palpita en sí. La iglesia, teniendo tres calles sendos con puerta, y el campanario constan tres andanas o cuerpos. En el ápice del frontispicio de la iglesia, encima del remate, se halla en un pequeñito templete el Santo Niño, también venerado acá junto con la Purísima.


Fachada de la basílica

Entrando en la puerta mayor, por tener la iglesia dos puertas colaterales, nos hallamos en el nártex, un vestíbulo, una antecámara, bajo el coro mayor que ya ha caído en desuso. Acceso a él se había posible por una escalera de caracol que conduce hacia arriba, frente de la puerta al bautisterio que ocupa el cuerpo principal del campanario. Cerca de los ambos postes del coro mayor se encuentra una benditera.


Coro mayor

Nártex

Escalera de caracol

Bautisterio con la pila
y un cuadro del Bautismo de Cristo

Benditera

Las paredes del interior de la basílica son decoradas con imágenes en trompe l’oeil y cuadros y de santos esculpidas, como el imagen de Pietà que se encuentra en el lado del nártex frente el bautisterio.


Pietà

Las en cuadros, al contrario, fueron réplicas de los grabados hecho por el célebre grabador francés Gustave Doré, como la Virgen del Apocalipsis en la visión del San Juan Evangelista.


Virgen del Apocalipsis

Virgen coronada: visión de Juan
Gustave Doré

En el curcero, la intersección de la nave y del transepto, encontramos el cimborrio magnífico, también decorado en trompe l’oeil, octágono y naranjado, en cuyos cuatro cantos, como era la costumbre, están los iconos de los cuatro evangelistas.


Cimborrio

Trompe loeil

Separado del resto de la basílica por un hermoso comulgatorio, hecho en madera, y sobrepuesto en una base de granito, ocupa el altar mayor lo más prestigioso y honrado lugar del santuario. Hay cuatro altares menores todos circundados por el comulgatorio. En ambas paredes del santuario, vemos las puertas cara a cara a la sacristía.


Comulgatorio

Puerta de la sacristía

La antigua mensa está situada bajo el ciborio que sirve en lugar del retablo. Entronizada allá en su nobilísima lugar, mira la Inmaculada Concepción, su corona de doce estrellas ciertamente fulgente, al pueblo congregado en la iglesia. Más arriba hallamos en la linterna del ciborio un más pequeño tallo de San José, y en la cima de esta linterna se levanta la Mater Ecclesia, sus ojos vendados, con cruz y cáliz en ambas manos.


Altar mayor

En el ala derecho del crucero, frente del altar del Inmaculado Corazón de María y del San Judas Tadeo, se halla el coro menor, apoyado por cortos postes.


Altar mayor, altares menores laterales, y coro menor

Según las antiquísimas costumbres, algunos bienhechores fueron enterrados en el suelo.


Lápidas


La misa
Antes que se empeciera la misa, dijo el Padre Uy que se celebra la misa votiva de los Siete Dolores de la Virgen María como acción de gracias suya a Dios por su hermana carmelita, Sor María Dolores, sin cuyas plegarias e incesantes rezos, no pudiera superar los siete años del Seminario. Cantaban en la misa las Hermanas Franciscanas de la Inmaculada.


Coro de monjas grises

Asistió en la misa el Señor Arzobispo de Lipá, Su Excelencia Ramón Argüelles, junto con el párroco de la basílica y de otros sacerdotes.


D. Ramón Argüelles, arzobispo de Lipá,
con el párroco de la basílica

En la basílica se agolpe el pueblo para la misa.


Pueblo congregado

Siguen las fotos de la misa.


Entrada


Oraciones en la ínfima grada


Incensación del altar


Evangelio


Homilía

En su homilía propuso el buen P. Uy una erotema:
Kapag may nangyaring milagro sa labas ng simbahan, may patay na nabuhay, bulag na nakakita, pupuntahan ba ninyo? Bakit? Hindi ba mas dakilang milagro ang nangyayari sa loob ng altar?
Y es porque en la sagrada misa, el pan se hace en verdadero carne del Señor, y el vino en verdadera sangre suya, los que para conseguir nuestra redención se necesitaron separados completamente, la razón que nuestro Señor sufrió el Calvario y en fin fue crucificado.


Elevación menor


Incensación del arzobispo in choro


Consagración de la Hostia


Consagración del Cáliz


Continuación del canon de la misa

Pater noster


Ecce Agnus Dei


Domine, non sum dignus


Comunión del pueblo

Dos de los asistentes sacerdotes también les daban la sagrada Forma a los comulgantes.


Bendición final
Retiro


Y así pues la misa fue terminada.

Misa terminada



Desde el cielo nos contemple la Deípara que desplegando su velo materno a cubrir estas fidelísimas y pulquérrimas Islas, recién consagradas de nuevo a cuyo Inmaculado Corazón, junto con el Sacratísimo Corazón de su Hijo, cuyo manto de caridad teándrica también éstas cobija, siempre nos sus hijos pecaminosos y pródigos aboga, nuestras impetraciones y especiales necesidades refrenda, y hasta el fin de nuestra vida natural nunca nos desampara.


las fotos fueron tomadas por M.J.M.A.