From the WSJ Opinion Archives
HOUSES OF WORSHIP
Lost Rite
The revival of the Sarum Mass.
Recently Scotland's University of Aberdeen celebrated the 500th anniversary of King's College Chapel with a remarkable historical resurrection. For only the second time since the Scottish Reformation of 1560, a Catholic Mass was said at the Chapel. Not just any Mass but the elaborate Sarum Rite, which had virtually disappeared from the Roman Catholic Church's liturgical practice.
Until the Reformation, the Sarum Rite was the standard liturgy in most of England, Scotland and Ireland. It was brought to England in 1078 by St. Osmund, a Norman nobleman who came with William the Conqueror and became the Bishop of Sarum (or Salisbury). Nearly 500 years later, Thomas Cranmer, the first Protestant archbishop of Canterbury, banned the Sarum Mass but borrowed heavily from it as he designed the Anglican Church's Book of Common Prayer. The Sarum Rite is thus not only the pre-Reformation rite of the English Catholic Church but the foundation of the modern Episcopal liturgy.
Today, unless one is lucky enough to be in Aberdeen during a quincentenary, it is difficult to attend a Sarum Mass. But elements of the 1,000-year-old rite are being revived in New York. At Columbia University, a choral group called Sarum has dedicated itself to restoring the liturgy's evening and nighttime prayers.
Each Sunday evening at the university chapel, St. Paul's, the group sings the Compline (or prayers said by the monks before retiring to bed), using the old Sarum Breviary and Sarum chant. Led by Columbia music professor Ian Bent, the group sings the prayers as a choir would have in 13th-century England, using original manuscripts and even re-creating the medieval English pronunciations of Latin.
Sarum is a nondenominational group, and its Sunday Compline is sung by the choir alone, so it is not strictly speaking a liturgical celebration. But Mr. Dent says that he and his colleagues dream of teaming up with a church to re-create the Sarum Rite "in full liturgical form."
What would it be like to attend a Sarum Mass? In his biography of St. Thomas More (who would have known only the Sarum Mass), Peter Ackroyd describes the ritual: "The Mass at the high altar was conducted behind the rood screen, but in innumerable chapels and side altars it was celebrated with the worshipers sometimes literally crowded around. . . . The priest held up the host, become by a miracle the body of Jesus. At that instant candles and torches made up of bundles of wood were lit to illuminate the scene; the sacring bell was rung and the church bells pealed so that those in the neighboring streets or fields might be aware of the solemn moment. . . . There are reports of people running from altar to altar to catch a glimpse of the consecrated host at different Masses."
The Sarum liturgy was, in many ways, similar to the pre-Vatican II "Tridentine" Mass that has made a comeback in recent years, only much more elaborate. As many as 14 deacons and subdeacons and three cross-bearers assisted the presiding priest, and anywhere from two to four additional priests known as Rectores Chori (or Rulers of the Choir) led the sacred chants. A deacon waved an intricate fan over the priest during Mass--a ritual that survived until early in this century only in Rome at papal functions. Instead of genuflecting on entering church, the faithful made a profound bow of head and shoulders. And in a dramatic moment after the elevation of the consecrated Eucharist, the Sarum priest stood with his arms stretched out before the altar like Christ nailed to the cross.
Elements of ancient Jewish liturgy, which have now largely disappeared from Catholic practice, survived in the Sarum Rite, such as the silken canopy (much like the Jewish huppa) held over the couple in a Sarum wedding. During Lent, a white curtain was raised in front of the sanctuary to conceal it from the people and choir; on Good Friday, when the priest read the words in the Passion--"And the veil of the temple was rent in the midst"--the curtain was dramatically divided to reveal the Holy Altar.
Perhaps one day Mr. Bent and his choir will find a church willing to re-create the full Sarum Liturgy. Until then, this small chapel in Manhattan is one of the last places in the world where every Sunday the chants that rang forth from England's churches nearly 1,000 years ago can still be heard.
Mr. Thiessen is a Washington writer.
