ST. THOMAS the APOSTLE



His life, according to James of Voragine.

His life, told in stained glass at Chartres Cathedral.

Sequence for the feast:

Congaudeant hodie
Filii Ecclesiae
Solemni laetitia:
Thomas doctor in die
Laudis et laetitiae
Nobis est materia.

Abanes praepositus
Circuit sollicitus,
Quaerens virum strenuum,
Qui Romano opere
Noverit exstruere
Domum arte manuum.
Tradit ei protinus
Servum suum Dominus,
Prudentem artificem:
Mox, ascensis navibus,
De rebus sublimibus
Conferunt ad invicem.

Regis intrant nuptias,
Sed epulas regias
Velut immunditias
Thomas obliviscitur:
Cibum habens alium,
Puellae praeconium,
In conspectu omnium
A pincema caeditur.

Quem lacerat,
Dum properat,
Ut de fonte aquam ferat,
Leo diris morsibus;
Mox attulit
Quo pertulit
Manum canis et intulit
Ibi coram omnibus.

Auro sibi commendato
Pauperibus erogato,
Domus surgit regia:
Non est domus temporalis,
Sed est status immortalis
In coelesti patria.

Rex cogebat Apostolum
Ut adoraret idolum,
Et orando divinitus.
Est liquefactum penitus.

Currunt ergo pontifices
Et caeteri carnifices:
Gladio Thomas subditus.
Martyr dignus est habitus.

O Didyme, miles Christi,
Per eumdem quem vidisti,
Cujus latus tetigisti,
Prece posce sedula,
Ut, post cursum hujus vitae,
Nos in Christo vera vite
Maneamus laeti rite
Per aeterna saecula.

Deo laus et gloria.
Amen dicant omnia!

Englished by Digby S. Wrangham:

Let the Church's sons to-day
Hymns, that holy joy display,
With one voice rejoicing, raise:
Thomas, that great teacher, now
Is the theme on which we show
Forth our gladness and our praise!

Abanes the president
Once upon his travels went,
Seeking anxiously a man,
Who, in handicraft well-skilled,
Had the art wherewith to build
Houses on the Roman plan.
Then the Lord His servant brings
To him, as in all such things
A most skilful workman bred;
Soon embarking on shipboard,
They in converse upward soared
To the highest themes instead.

At a royal marriage-feast
Thomas, since to him at least
Such feasts are impure, as guest,
Wholly lost in thought doth seem:
Other food he hath, the praise
Which a damsel's accents raise,
So the butler, in full gaze
Of the feasters, smiteth him.

A lion dread, -
As this man sped
For water to the fountain-head, -
With its fangs his limbs doth tear;
Soon by a hound
The hand was found
Which he had used, and carried round
In the sight of all men there.

Though the gold to him commended
He upon the poor expended.
Upward doth a palace rise:
Not a palace transitory,
But a state of endless glory
In the land of Paradise.

The king would the Apostle bring
By force to idol-worshipping;
But, when he doth to heaven pray,
The idol wholly melts away.

Therefore the priests together run
With other torturers many a one,
And Thomas, brought beneath the blade,
A glorious Martyr thus is made.

Didymus, Christ's warrior plighted!
Through Him Who thy gaze requited,
And Whose side thy touch invited,
With unceasing prayer implore,
That, when this life's course is ended,
We, with Christ, the true Vine, blended,
To those joys may be commended
Fitly, which endure e'ermore!

Glory be to God and praise!
"Amen" let creation raise!

HEAVENLY JERUSALEM



Hymn by Marbodaeus:

HEAVENLY JERUSALEM



Hymn by Thomas à Kempis:

Jerusálem luminosa,
Verae pacis visio,
Felix nimis ac formosa,
Summi Regis mansio;
De te o quam gloriosa
Dicta sunt a saeculo!

Lapidibus expolitis
Structa tu mirifice
Gemmis, auro, claris vitris,
Decoraris undique;
Portae fulgent margaritis,
Plateae sunt aureae.

In te jugiter jocundum
Alleluia canitur;
Sollemne ac laetabundum
Semper festum agitur;
Totum sanctum, totum mundum,
In te quidquid cernitur.

In te nunquam nubilata
Aëris temperies;
Sole solis illustrata
Semper est meridies;
In te non nox fessis grata,
Nec labor nec inquies.

In te florida vernalis
Perdurat amoenitas;
Ferax semper aestivalis
Rutilat serenitas;
Autumnalis seu brumalis
Procul est frigiditas.

Quidquid libet, hîc dulcoris
Avium in cantibus,
Quidquid jubili canoris
Musicis in actibus,
In te plenum hoc saporis
Abundat diffusius.

In te robusta juventus
In aevum non deperit;
Senex seu morte praeventus
Neque est neque erit;
Sed neque futurum tempus;
Praesens nunquam praeterit.

Lex membrorum animalis
Erit plene mortus;
Nova caro spiritalis
Erit menti subdita;
Vivaque vis sensualis
Rationi consona.

In te vivus continetur
Fons bonorum omnium;
In quo plene possidetur,
Proprium as libitum,
Quidquid corpori videtur
Sive menti congruum.

In te durat longitudo
Sempiterni temporis,
Quae plena beatitudo
Reformati corporis;
In hoc par similitudo
Redemptis et Angelis.

O quam vere gloriosam
Eris, corpus fragile,
Cum fueris tam formosum,
Forte, sanum, agile,
Liberum, voluptuosum,
In aevum durabile!

Nunc libenter ac ferventer
Laborum fer onera,
Habeasut condecenter
Dona tam magnifica,
Diterisque luculenter
Gloriâ perpetuâ!
Amen.

Englished by John Mason Neale:

Light's abode, Celestial Salem,
Vision whence true peace doth spring,
Brighter than the heart can fancy,
Mansion of the highest King;
O how glorious are the praises
Which of thee the prophets sing!

Thou with beauteous stones, and polished
Wondrously art raised on high;
Thou with precious gems and crystal
Decorated gloriously:
And with pearls Thy portals glitter,
And with gold Thy high-ways vie.

There for ever and for ever
Alleluia is outpoured
For unending and unbroken
Is the feast day of the Lord;
All is pure and all is holy
That within thy walls is stored.

There no cloud nor passing vapor
Dims the brightness of the air;
Endless noonday, glorious noonday,
From the Sun of suns is there;
There no night brings rest from labor,
For unknown are toil and care.

There the everlasting spring-tide
Sheds its dewy, green repose;
There the summer, in its glory,
Cloudless and eternal glows;
For that Country never knoweth
Autumn's storms nor winter's snows.

Whatsoever trills of gladness
From the sweet birds' sweetest throat, -
Whatsoe'er delicious concord
Drops from music's tenderest note, -
Strains a thousand times more lovely
Round the heavenly City float.

Youth with all its freshest vigour
Into age there cannot wane,
There the old man shall not sorrow
For departed years again:
Nothing past, and nothing future, -
Time doth present still remain.

Animal and carnal passion
Nevermore can weary there;
That new flesh made spiritual
Then the spirit's yoke shall bear;
Sensual vigour, perfect reason,
Both one common law shall share.

O how blessed, O how quick'ning,
Is the Fount of all good things,
Whence each heart hath full possession
Of its best imaginings:
Whence hath body, whence hath spirit,
What their highest rapture brings!

Sempiternal is the glory
In the which that Land is viewed,
Where each ransomed form attaineth
Its complete beatitude;
Where the Elect and the Angels
Hold entire similitude.

O how glorious and resplendent,
Fragile body, shalt thou be,
When endued with so much beauty,
Full of health, and strong, and free,
Full of vigor, full of pleasure
That shall last eternally!

Now with gladness, now with courage,
Bear the burden on thee laid,
That hereafter these thy labors
May with endless gifts be paid:
And in everlasting glory
Thou with brightness be array'd!Amen. 

EXPECTATION of the BLESSED VIRGIN MARY



Dom Prosper Gueranger:

This feast, which is now kept not only throughout the whole of Spain but in many other parts of the Catholic world, owes its origin to the bishops of the tenth Council of Toledo, in 656. These prelates thought that there was an incongruity in the ancient practice of celebrating the feast of the Annunciation on the twenty-fifth of March, inasmuch as this joyful solemnity frequently occurs at the time when the Church is intent upon the Passion of our Lord, so that it is sometimes obliged to be transferred into Easter time, with which it is out of harmony for another reason; they therefore decreed that, henceforth, in the Church of Spain there should be kept, eight days before Christmas, a solemn feast with an octave, in honour of the Annunciation, and as a preparation for the great solemnity of our Lord's Nativity. In course of time, however, the Church of Spain saw the necessity of returning to the practice of the Church of Rome, and of those of the whole world, which solemnize the twenty-fifth of March as the day of our Lady's Annunciation and the Incarnation of the Son of God. But such had been, for ages, the devotion of the people for the feast of the eighteenth of December, that it was considered requisite to maintain some vestige of it. They discontinued, therefore, to celebrate the Annunciation on this day; but the faithful were requested to consider, with devotion, what must have been the sentiments of the holy Mother of God during the days immediately preceding her giving Him birth. A new feast was instituted, under the name of the Expectation of the blessed Virgin's delivery.

This feast, which sometimes goes under the name of Our Lady of O, or the feast of O, on account of the [antiphon] which begins O Virgo virginum [and because on that day the clerics in the choir after Vespers used to utter a loud and protracted O, to express the longing of the universe for the coming of the Redeemer], is kept with great devotion in Spain. A High Mass is sung at a very early hour each morning during the octave, at which all who are with child, whether rich or poor, consider it a duty to assist, that they may thus honour our Lady's Maternity, and beg her blessing upon themselves...

Most just indeed it is, O holy Mother of God, that we should unite in that ardent desire thou hadst to see Him, who had been concealed for nine months in thy chaste womb; to know the features of this Son of the heavenly Father, who is also thine; to come to that blissful hour of His birth, which will give glory to God in the highest, and, on earth, peace to men of good-will. Yes, dear Mother, the time is fast approaching, though not fast enough to satisfy thy desires and ours. Make us redouble our attention to the great mystery; complete our preparation by thy powerful prayers for us, that when the solemn hour has come, our Jesus may find no obstacle to His entrance into our hearts.

O Virgo virginum, quomodo fiet istud? quia noc primam similem visa es, nec habere sequentem. Filae Jerusalem, quid me admiramini? Divinum est mysterium hoc quod cernitis.

O Virgin of virgins! how shall this be? for never was there one like thee, nor will there ever be. Ye daughters of Jerusalem, why look ye wondering at me? What ye behold, is a divine mystery.

[The Liturgical Year]

HEAVENLY JERUSALEM



Hymn by Peter Abelard:

O quanta, qualia sunt illa sabbata
Quae semper celebrat superna curia.
Quae fessis requies, quae merces fortibus,
Cum erit omnia Deus in omnibus.

Vere Ierusalem est illa civitas,
Cuius pax iugis est, summa iucunditas,
Ubi non praevenit rem desiderium,
Nec desiderio minus est praemium.

Quis rex, quae curia, quale palatium,
Quae pax, quae requies, quod illud gaudium,
Huius participes exponant gloriam,
Si quantum sentiunt, possint exprimere.

Nostrum est interim mentem erigere
Et totis patriam votis appetere,
Et ad Ierusalem a Babylonia
Post longa regredi tandem exilia.

Illic molestiis finitis omnibus
Securi cantica Sion cantibimus,
Et iuges gratias de donis gratiae
Beata referet plebs tibi, Domine.

Illic ex sabbato succedet sabbatum,
Perpes laetitia sabbatizantium,
Nec ineffabiles cessabunt iubili,
Quos decantabimus et nos et angeli.

Perenni Domino perpes sit gloria,
Ex quo sunt, per quem sunt, in quo sunt omnia;
Ex quo sunt, Pater est; per quem sunt, Filius;
In quo sunt, Patris et Filii Spiritus.

Englished by John Mason Neale:

O what their joy and their glory must be,
Those endless Sabbaths the blessèd ones see;
Crown for the valiant, to weary ones, rest;
God shall be all, and in all ever blessed.

Truly, Jerusalem name we that shore,
City of peace that brings joy evermore;
Wish and fulfillment are not severed there,
Nor do things prayed for come short of the prayer.

What are the Monarch, His court, and His throne?
What are the peace and the joy that they own?
O that the blessed ones, who in it have share,
All that they feel could as fully declare!

There, where no troubles distraction can bring,
We the sweet anthems of Zion shall sing;
While for Thy grace, Lord, their voices of praise
Thy blessèd people eternally raise.

There dawns no Sabbath, no Sabbath is o’er,
Those Sabbath keepers have one evermore;
One and unending is that triumph song
Which to the angels and us shall belong.

Now, in the meanwhile, with hearts raised on high,
We for that country must yearn and must sigh;
Seeking Jerusalem, dear native land,
Through our long exile on Babylon’s strand.

Low before Him with our praises we fall,
Of Whom, and in Whom, and through Whom are all;
Of Whom, the Father; and in Whom, the Son,
Through Whom, the Spirit, with Them ever One.

LAST JUDGMENT ~ PETER HUYS

HEAVENLY JERUSALEM



Hymn by Peter Damian, adapted from a mediation by Augustine of Hippo:

Ad perennis vitae fontem mens sitivit arida,
Claustra carnis praesto frangi clausa quaerit anima,
Gliscit, ambit, eluctatur exul frui patria.

Dum pressuris ac aerumnis se gemit obnoxiam,
Quam amisit, dum deliquit, contemplatur gloriam;
Praesens malum urget boni perditi memoriam.

Nam quis promat summae pacis quanta sit laetitia,
Ubi vivis margaritis surgunt aedificia,
Auro celsa micant tecta, radiant triclinia?

Solis gemmis pretiosis haec structura nectitur;
Auro mundo, tanquam vitro, urbis via sternitur;
Abest limus, deest fimus, lues nulla cernitur.

Hiems horrens, aestas torrens, illic nunquam saeviunt;
Flos perpetuus rosarum, ver agit perpetuum;
Candent lilia, rubescit crocus, sudat balsamum.

Virent prata, vernant sata, rivi mellis influunt;
Pigmentorum spirat odor, liquor est aromatum;
Pendent poma floridorum non lapsura nemorum.

Non alternat luna vices, sol, vel cursus siderum;
Agnus est felicis urbis lumen inocciduum;
Nox et tempus desunt ei, diem fert continuum.

Nam et sancti quisque velut sol praeclarus rutilant;
Post triumphum coronati mutuo conjubilant,
Et prostrati pugnas hostis jam securi memorant.

Omni labe defaecati, carnis bella nesciunt;
Caro facta spiritalis et mens unum sentiunt;
Pace multa perfruentes, scandalum non perferunt.

Mutabilibus exuti, repetunt originem,
Et praesentis Veritatis contemplantur speciem;
Hinc vitalem vivi fontis hauriunt dulcedinem.

Inde statum semper iidem existendi capiunt,
Clari, vividi, jucundi, nullis patent casibus:
Absunt morbi semper sanis, senectus juvenibus.

Hinc perenne tenent esse, nam transire transiit;
Inde virent, vigent, florent; corruptela corruit;
Immortalis vigor aurae mortis jus absorbuit.

Qui scientem cuncta sciunt, quid nescire nequeunt:
Nam et pectoris arcana penetrant alterutrum,
Unum volunt, unum nolunt, unitas est mentium.

Licet cuique sit diversum pro labore meritum,
Caritas hoc facit suum quod amat in altero:
Proprium sic singulonmi fit commune omnium.

Ubi corpus, illic jure congregantur aquilse,
Quo cum angelis et sanctae recreantur animae;
Uno pane vivunt cives utriusque patriae.

Avidi et semper pleni, quod habent desiderant,
Non satietas fastidit, neque fames cruciat:
Inhiantes semper edunt, et edentes inhiant.

Novas semper melodias vox meloda concrepat,
Et in jubilum prolata mulcent aures organa,
Digna per quem sunt victores, Regi dant praaconia.

Felix caeli quae praesentem Regem cernit anima,
Et sub sede spectat alta orbis volvi machinam,
Solem, lunam, et globosa cum planetis sidera.

Christe, pahna bellatorum, hoc in municipium
Introduc me post solutum mihtare cingulum,
Fac consortem donativi beatorum civium:

Praebe vires inexhausto laboranti praelio,
Nec quietem post procinctum deneges emerito,
Teque merear potiri sine fine praemio.

Englished loosely by FBP in the late 16th century:

Jerusalem, my happy home,
When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
Thy joys when shall I see?

O happy harbor of the saints!
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow may be found,
No grief, no care, no toil.

In thee no sickness may be seen,
No hurt, no ache, no sore;
There is no death nor ugly devil,
There is life for evermore.

No dampish mist is seen in thee,
No cold nor darksome night;
There every soul shines as the sun;
For God himself gives light.

There lust and lucre cannot dwell;
There envy bears no sway;
There is no hunger, heat, nor cold,
But pleasure every way.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
God grant that I may see
Thine endless joy, and of the same
Partaker ay may be!

Thy walls are made of precious stones,
Thy bulwarks diamonds square;
Thy gates are of right orient pearl;
Exceeding rich and rare;

Thy turrets and thy pinnacles
With carbuncles do shine;
Thy very streets are paved with gold,
Surpassing clear and fine;

Thy houses are of ivory,
Thy windows crystal clear;
Thy tiles are made of beaten gold —
O God that I were there!

Within thy gates nothing doth come
That is not passing clean,
No spider’s web, no dirt, no dust,
No filth may there be seen.

Aye, my sweet home, Jerusalem,
Would God I were in thee:
Would God my woes were at an end,
Thy joys that I might see.

Thy saints are crowned with glory great;
They see God face to face;
They triumph still, they still rejoice
Most happy is their case.

We that are here in banishment
Continually do mourn:
We sigh and sob, we weep and wail,
Perpetually we groan.

Our sweet is mixed with bitter gall,
Our pleasure is but pain:
Our joys scarce last the looking on,
Our sorrows still remain.

But there they live in such delight,
Such pleasure and such play,
As that to them a thousand years
Doth seem as yesterday.

Thy vineyards and thy orchards are
Most beautiful and fair,
Full furnished with trees and fruits,
Most wonderful and rare.

Thy gardens and thy gallant walks
Continually are green:
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers
As nowhere else are seen.

There is nectar and ambrosia made,
There is musk and civet sweet;
There many a fair and dainty drug
Is trodden under feet.

There cinnamon, there sugar grows,
Here nard and balm abound.
What tongue can tell or heart conceive
The joys that there are found?

Quite through the streets with silver sound
The flood of life doth flow,
Upon whose banks on every side
The wood of life doth grow.

There trees for evermore bear fruit,
And evermore do spring;
There evermore the angels be,
And evermore do sing.

There David stands with harp in hand
As master of the choir:
Ten thousand times that man were blessed
That might this music hear.

Our Lady sings Magnificat
With tune surpassing sweet,
And all the virgins bear their part,
Sitting at her feet.

There Magdalen hath left her moan,
And cheerfully doth sing
With blessèd saints, whose harmony
In every street doth ring.

Jerusalem, my happy home,
Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end
Thy joys that I might see!

ST. LUCY



Her life, according to James of Voragine.

LAST JUDGMENT ~ BERN MINSTER

HEIDELBERG SCIVIAS

Selected pages from the Heidelberg manuscript of St. Hildegard of Bingen's Scivias: