ERRANT PHONIES OF THE ROMAN RITE DISPLAYED

The members of the Institute of the Roman Catholic Institute [sic] shall adhere to the Roman Missal of Saint Pius V, the Roman Breviary of Saint Pius V, together with the additions and reforms made up to and including the year 1948, exclusive.  Big Don Sanborn's "Liturgical Directory of the Roman Catholic Institute" (p. 7, #1)

Look closely at this week's graphic (above), a detail from the January 2018 MHT monthly schedule.

First, observe that, for Saturday, January 27, it advertises anticipated Epiphany IV as the Mass of the day.  Next recall how Big Don boasted that the "general liturgical principle" of his apparently dormant — and perhaps dead — "Roman Catholic Institute" was to "preserve the traditional Roman liturgy" (see here, p. 6). Now bear in mind that if a pesthouse completer today celebrated the "Fourth Sunday after Epiphany (anticipated)," he betrayed Don's noble-sounding but (patently) impossible-to-meet objective.

Call us old fashioned or geezers or worm-bait if you will, but we still believe fidelity to the "traditional Roman liturgy" means conforming to the Church's rubrics. Catholics who genuinely love the traditional liturgy will second our affirmation.  If you count yourself as one of them, you'll want to stick with us as we investigate the lawlessness of the MHT schedule entry.

The Roman Missal itself is the best place to start the inquiry. Within our easy reach is a Benziger altar Missal sporting a 1947 approbation from Francis Cardinal Spellman. (Many American "clergy" own old Benzigers.) Immediately beneath our edition's heading for the second Sunday after Epiphany, we find the following rule (our emphasis):

Si hæc Dominica II, vel alia post Epiphaniam, a superveniente Septuagesima impediatur, nec sit ei locus post Pentecosten, juxta Rubricas, anticipatur Sabbato... 

(Lit. "If this second Sunday or another after Epiphany be impeded by the supervenient Septuagesima [Sunday], and there be not a place for it after Pentecost, according to the Rubrics, it is anticipated on Saturday...")

The directive may be more easily understood by reference to §549 in Wuest's Collectio Rerum Liturgicarum (1921), based on S.R.C. 28 Oct. 1913 I, 3:

Si Dominica aliqua ante Dom. Septuag. supersit neque locus sit ante ultimam Dominicam post Pentecosten, talis Dominica anticipanda est in Sabbato ante Dom. Septuag.

In his 1925 Matters Liturgical, the revised edition in English of Fr. Wuest's work, Fr. Mullaney rendered the Latin thus (emphasis ours):

If a Sunday remain over before Septuagesima and there is no place for it before the Last Sunday after Pentecost, this Sunday must be anticipated on the Saturday before Septuagesima. [N.B. Fr. Mullaney retained the same translation in his 1944 sixth edition.]

Inasmuch as Septuagesima Sunday 2018 falls tomorrow, January 28, thus impeding the observance of Epiphany IV, let's see whether there is a place for the Mass of Epiphany IV before the Last Sunday after Pentecost. N.B. Only if there isn't a place before the Last Sunday after Pentecost in 2018 may the Mass of Epiphany IV be lawfully anticipated today, Saturday, January 27.

REMARK. It shouldn't be necessary, but in the event it is, we remind everyone that the Missal contains Mass texts for 24 Sundays after Pentecost. If a given year's calendar contains more than 24 Sundays after Pentecost, the Missal supplies the Mass texts for the additional Sundays after Pentecost from the "left-over" Sundays after Epiphany.

Got it?

Great!

Drum roll, if you please, Maestro!


... And the answer is....

Yeeessss, there IS a spot in 2018! 

This ain't rocket science or magic, folks, provided you can read the Paschal Table in the front matter of the Missale Romanum, as pictured in part below.  Here's how to use it:

Determine (a) the year's Sunday Letter (littera Dominicalis) and (b) its epact.* (To save time, we'll simply tell you that the Sunday Letter for A.D. 2018, a common year starting on a Monday, is g, and the epact is xiii.) To find the number of Sundays after Pentecost in 2018, you first go to the cell containing the letter G in column 1; moving to the right to the adjacent cell, locate the number 13 in column 2 (row 2, last number), against which (in the next cell) you'll see 2018's date of Septuagesima Sunday, viz., January 28. Then scan horizontally in a straight line across the row to column 9 (Sundays after Pentecost), where you'll read 27. With a wee bit of easy mental arithmetic, you conclude there's a place for Epiphany IV before the last Sunday after Pentecost.

(It's so simple.  Like reading a bus schedule and counting. Sheesh! Lay people can do it.)

So, then, what else have we learned, besides (a) the number of 2018 Sundays after Pentecost and (b) that there's room for Epiphany IV? Well, since we at once knew there were also places for Epiphany V and VI, we can affirm that, in 2018, the Masses of the 4th, 5th, and 6th Sundays after Epiphany are transferred to the 24th, 25th, and 26th Sundays after Pentecost, respectively. The Mass text for the 27th Sunday is, of course, the Missal's Dominica Vigesima Quarta et ultima post Pentecosten, "Twenty-fourth and Last Sunday after Pentecost." (Real liturgists marvel at the economy of the Roman Missal. Ain't it a cryin' shame cult "clergy" can't appreciate it?)

It's as clear as crystal, therefore, that the Mass for today, Saturday, January 27, 2018, should've been that of St. John Chrysostom, NOT anticipated Epiphany Sunday IV. The malformed preparer of the Swampland's monthly schedule for January flagrantly disobeyed liturgical law, and nobody caught the culprit until now.

Why couldn't Big Don's cult obey lawful rubrics? When we checked last week's bulletins on the Ham Sandwich's and Deficit Dan's websites, both showed the lawful Mass of the day, as you can see here (p. 4) and here (p. 4). The pesthouse monthly schedule seems to have been drafted by a liturgical delinquent, unless the entry was mindlessly transferred from someone else's outlaw ordo or calendar.

Looks like the Boy-"Bishop"-Elect's gonna have a lotta housecleaning when he gets back from London.

When you come right down to it, the non-compliant cult rapscallions are more deplorable than Bugnini and his cronies. At least the deservedly maligned reformers

(a) preserved the rule for the resumption of a Sunday or Sundays impeded by Septuagesima on Sundays occurring between the 23rd and the Last Sunday after Pentecost,

and

(b) acted in accordance with proper legal procedure by formally abrogating anticipation on the Saturday before Septuagesima Sunday.**

Hamstrung by their malformation, the Swampland gang, ostensibly unwilling to remain obedient to the traditional rule, anticipated Epiphany IV in utter violation of liturgical ordinance.

We remember reading somewhere, maybe in $GG's statement of beliefs, that Catholics "have a right to pure worship." The B'ville bunch seems to echo that sentiment in principle 13 of the Donster's "Liturgical Directory" (p. 7):

The members of the Institute shall conform all liturgical rites and ceremonies to the instructions found the [sic. Read "in"] the Rubricæ Generales of the Roman Missal and Breviary...

According to our upbringing, "pure worship" entails liturgical orthopraxis, not robotic ritualism. We must worship in the way the Church would have us worship, about which she instructs us through her rubrics. Exact and faithful execution of a rite must be mirrored by a persnickety conformance to the entire body of liturgical law, just as Don's principle 13 rightly demands.

But if Big Don, now "the Lowly Worm," really and truly meant what he wrote, then why did he permit flouting both the Missal's clear instruction (reproduced above) and the Breviary's Rubricæ Generales ***? Are they hypocrites or idiots down in the fetid swamp, or simply liturgical lawbreakers?

We assert you've got to talk the talk and walk the walk, but, then again, as we intimated above, we're old fashioned — and Catholics.

If a Swampland "celebrant" illicitly anticipated Epiphany IV today, then any Catholics mired in the bog could not exercise their right to worship purely. Those responsible for the transgression must answer for their outlawry. If the disobedience resulted from consulting a flawed, cult-produced ordo, there's no excuse, for the pesthouse knows there's a very suitable Ordo Recitandi available from the Saint Lawrence Press.

PL thinks America has suffered enough. First fake news, now fake Use of Rome. Scary.

Last year, Jordan Peele directed a brain-swapping-themed horror flick, which turned out to be a box-office smash hit, garnering several Oscar nominations this year. To secular cinemagoers, it satirized liberal arrogance and hypocrisy. Viewed through traditional Catholic eyes, the movie is a terrifying morality play about soul-snatching Tradistani cults. After reading today's post, any genuine Catholic still attached to the SW Ohio/Brooksville cabal ought to take to heart the film's title:

GET OUT

* The Sunday, or Dominical, Letter and the epact of a given year appear in competently edited ordines, like the one published annually by the Saint Lawrence Press in England. You may also use the tables for the appropriate centuries printed in the Missal under De Anno et Ejus Partibus, or you may directly calculate the Sunday Letter and the epact. Another resource would be a Tabella Temporaria Festorum Mobilium available online, such as that prepared by the SSPX under its excellent La Porte Latine.

**Matters Liturgical (1956): §481 a (resumption), §532 d-h (description of order to be followed), and §481 b (abrogation date and cites).

*** The cult masters may wish to clip the following for future reference, assuming they can read it:

    ✄

FEEDING UPON CHARITY

The dispensing of injustice is always in the right hands. Lec

For almost a decade, you've confronted on these pages numerous arguments for withholding financial, moral, and material assistance from the SW Ohio cult, all of which have been substantiated by the cult masters' very words or deeds. Many out there have listened and acted, but a few continue to resist our repeated invitation to STARVE THE BEAST.

Maybe what's needed is one thin, solitary straw to break the back of their reluctance. You know— not something big, like abetting the violation of the Church's law of abstinence, but something that appears minor, yet isn't: Some little incident to prove the Gerties are wasting their money, time, sweat, and good faith, while they get the short end of the stick.

Wee Dannie's January 7 "Corner," we'd say, loaded on that last straw (emphasis ours):

I would like to ask you to join our CAT club at St. Gertrude the Great. No, nothing to do with Caravaggio or Puccini, cat food or vet trips. CAT stands for some-thing like “Cars and Transportation,” actually “Clergy Airport Transportation,” I guess. In a word, it assembles our drivers who would be willing to give an airport ride or pickup for the good Fathers going about their mission rounds. We’re low at the moment, and nobody picked up Fr. Lehtoranta returning from his Milwaukee Christmas. I was mortified. It seemed a little unfriendly. Cold. And at Christmas. He took a cab. He and I are holdouts, dummies I guess, without Smart Phones. So, no Uber either.

Whoa, Nelly! If that doesn't get the few remaining conscious Gerties to pack their bags (as soon as they stop laughing their heads off), who knows what will?  Dannie's appeal so richly bears out everything we've heretofore posted that an analysis for souls who aren't quick on the uptake seems to be the order of the day.

Suppose we start with the confession "We're low at the moment." Of course, the cult's low on drivers. The Gerties are wising up, refusing to subsidize the expenses of far-away "missions," from which they receive no benefit. These excursions are moneymakers and mini escapes for the "clergy." Why should $GG culties sacrifice their precious free time, waste their gasoline, and suffer wear-and-tear to their vehicles by hauling those freeloaders around to serve outsiders? Charity begins at home, so the proverb goes.

Where's the equity in Gerties' abandoning their families — "at Christmas" — to venture out into the "[c]old" to keep expenditures down for strangers? To us, that's "unfriendly," not to mention grossly unfair.  If "missions" hire out one of Dannie's "priests," then the cost of airport transfer should be built into the fee they pay: that's how consultants/contractors in the business world do it. By cadging free rides, "One Hand" unjustly saddles some Gerties with an extra collection from which they derive zero advantage, spiritual or otherwise.

In addition to confirming the Gerties' unwillingness to support the SW Ohio sectarian scheme, the Wee One's appeal betrays the cult-masters' managerial ineptitude. If he and the "good Fathers" can't get their act together to design and monitor a rudimentary motor pool, then they most likely haven't the competence to husband the culties' weekly donations. Can't the "clergy" build a master schedule for "missions," at least on a semi-annual basis?

With a schedule in place, no one could be taken by surprise, unless a volunteer, for some reason, couldn't complete his assignment. And in that case, more than likely, the individual would call to advise the cult masters to find a replacement, say, one of the bone-idle "clergy" lounging around decrepit $GG. If our Pedestrian Prelate had been able to learn to drive, like normal folks, he could contribute his fair share of the work.* 

Therefore, from a managerial point of view, we see no reason for him to be "mortified." If you refuse to — or cannot  — plan, then snafus are bound to be your lot. And we hardly need to add that the Forlorn Finn is no princeling or distinguished guest deserving of chauffeur service. (He may not even be a "priest.") That said, however, we do think Dan's mortification was authentic.

The Readers consulted the search engine RideGuru and found that a one-way taxicab ride from the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky airport to rodent-infested $GG would cost around $71.54, without tip. A standard gratuity would bring the fare to $82.27.

No wonder His Indigency was "mortified"! 

That's the check for hors d'œuvres, an entrée, dessert, and maybe a glass or two of house wine at La Petite France Restaurant and Bistro, a onetime favorite hangout before money grew tight after the calamitous 2009 $GG $chool $candal. (With a coupon, he could then afford to leave a proper tip.**) That cab fare must've hurt, seeing that it resulted in the ad-hoc creation of another resource-gobbler à la "Cucina Clerical."

Now if the SW Ohio cult had any business sense, the kingpins would've purchased a smartphone group plan for the "clerical" crown crew. With the "Uber" or Lyft app at his fingertips, the Forlorn Finn could've hailed a ride setting Dannie back a mere $37.87.  Adding in a 15% tip, the trip would've amounted to just a tad more than half the cost of a cab, plenty of dough for two adults to take advantage of the Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday dinner buffet at The Farm. As much as we don't want to give "One Hand" credit for anything, we'll agree with him on one point: it's plain dumb not to own a smartphone today when you travel frequently.

The time has come to close down the little that remains of Panhandlin' Dan's failed venture. Business basics are a challenge for him anyway.  From everything we've seen, the cult masters couldn't get lab rats on hormones to breed during mating season.  Furthermore, it's manifestly unjust for the Gerties to subsidize the cult's "mission rounds," the purpose of which is to suggest Dannie still has influence, provide jobs to sorry completers the pesthouse doesn't want, and bring in a little extra cash.

The fair thing for Dannie and his malformed "clergy" to do is to join the CAT Club for "dummies" without smartphones:

The Call A Taxi Club.

* One explanation for the "clergy's" apparent aversion to sharing "CAT" responsibilities equally with the Gerties may be the time involved: round-trip from the airport to the ramshackle industrial-park cult center takes about an hour and 20 minutes, longer during the rush. If the "clerical" pickup doesn't want to wait for his ride, then the driver has to do the waiting, so add another 10 to 20 minutes. If the pickup expects to be greeted in the terminal and escorted to the car, then add another half hour to 45 minutes, plus the usual exorbitant airport short-term-parking charge. And if the flight is delayed ...  well, you get the picture: better to inconvenience harried Gerties than the loafing "clergy."

**If he thinks he's above coupon clipping, there's always 10% off for presenting his AAA membership card.  But on second thought, since Dannie can't drive, he's probably not a member.

HAGGLING IN THE SWAMPLAND SOUK

But in the way of a bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. Shakespeare

While scrounging for hints about the identity of the cast members of the February 22 Big Show starring the Boy-"Bishop"-Elect, we came across the following entry at January 21 in the Swampland's monthly schedule:

	Bishop’s Missa Cantata	10:30 A.M.	C Bishop Dolan C1 C de la Chanonie C2 Rev. Mr. Dutertre

Apart from yet another celebration of the notorious Vatican II-innovation of "pontifical sung Mass" within the bowels of the Mother Cult-Center of the "Roman Catholic Institute" — the "general liturgical principle" of which is "to preserve the traditional Roman liturgy" (see PL's exposé of cult hypocrisy here) — what most occupied the Readers' attention was figuring out a motive for Wee Dan's presence in B'ville almost a month to the day before the gala harlequinade.

As you might imagine, a smörgåsbord of tantalizing theories appeared before our hungry minds. We couldn't decide what to choose until we saw this item in the January 7 "Corner":

On Thursday the McFathers joined me in schedule planning through Easter….This season we had to schedule around the Retreat, and the Consecration in Florida, as well as Holy Week.

Ah, that's right! For quite a few years, Travelin'-Man Dan's been jetting to the subtropical slough around the latter part of January for an annual "seminary" (LOL) retreat. Thus, his attendance at this year's roundup in a warmer climate during the dead of Ohio winter was pretty much predictable.

But is that the only reason he'll be heading off to the bog?

Could Dannie possibly be lobbying for a major rôle at Junior's "consecration"?

Lately he's been making a rather noisy effort to signal "approval" of the illicit conferral of "episcopal orders" on the Clone (a favor he definitely didn't extend to the Donster or the Long-Island Jellyfish).  Without reading too much into it, PL guesses the Wee One might've assessed the disastrous fiscal consequences should Gertie stalwarts infer his absence from the quagmire's sanctuary means he's no longer a player in Sedelandia. (In personality cults, as in football, paying fans demand winners.)

By all means, if we were pressured to bet, we'd have to wager Dannie wasn't consulted at all about the decision to "consecrate" the Kid.  Quite honestly, there may have been no deliberations with any sede kingpins whatsoever, once the élite heard the Donster "had two very blocked arteries, including a 98% blockage in the main artery coming from the heart....[and] was days or weeks from a massive and fatal heart attack." More than likely, an abrupt directive from on high thundered down to settle the matter. In any event, it was Junior's time.


Nevertheless, exposure as completely out of the loop would weaken Dannie on the home front. At an alarming rate, he's losing culties to attrition, alienation, and the Angel of Death. The smart move is to accept something you can't change and, as long as you're nimble, give the (false) impression you somehow remain influential. (He's made similar gambits in the past: Does anyone recall Giardina's and Dávila's "Big Days"?)

After the Donster's "elevation to the episcopacy," some mean-spirited talebearer may have passed along to "One Hand" the cruelly cutting and dismissive observation, "Poor Daniel! He won't have anything to do now."  Ouch! As that snide observation inches toward fulfillment in 2018, His Marginality can't afford to be locked out of future "ordinations," lest the disillusioned Gerties write him off.  (For the record, allow us to register our opinion that after the Kid is firmly large and in charge in the morass, we don't see much hope for His Superfluity's exercising any longer his dubious "orders" on pesthouse completers: every candidate up for the "diaconate" or "priesthood" will want as his ordaining "bishop" the youthful, well-heeled, and more-likely-than-not valid prelataster.)

We must, then, ask ourselves, For what part in the extravaganza might Dannie be auditioning?  The rôle of sole co-consecrator, we still maintain, has to be out of the question. According to our pragmatic way of thinking, the élite cannot be so careless as to allow the specter of doubtful orders to return to torment the Kid throughout the arc of his "prelatical" career, like some theological Banquo's ghost.* In addition, those in real control must to this day resent all the scrutiny Dannie's self-inflicted  2009 $GG School Scandal has visited upon B'ville.

It could be, then, that Footloose Dan may be journeying south, undercover as a retreat master, to negotiate a spot on the co-consecrator tag team, offering to partner with Stuyver or more probably with the Jellyfish. Either one of those two guys would assure validity, so why not let Dannie come on stage?. That option, however, may be off the table if there's an objection to publicly associating with "One Hand" — Stuyver's boss, Francesco "The Don" Ricossa, might frown upon it.

If, therefore, tag-teaming is impossible, he could try to cut a deal to allow him to continue to "ordain" in exchange for a promise to visit his dying "apostolate" in sunny Mexico throughout the week of the "consecration." Having Li'l Daniel out of the country would prove the surest way to keep the Wee One from photo-bombing the event.

In exchange for his absence, the élite might toss him a bone and allow him to "ordain" inferior Gertie spawn, knowing, as the élite do, that the odds of a Gertie-child's making it through the low-expectations "seminary" are almost zero. That way, Dannie could keep his rabble in the dark, and the élite wouldn't have to worry about Photoshopping "One Hand's" mug out of the Big Day's pix.

If we're on the right track, there'll be a whirl of camel-swapping taking place. As of now, we cannot say which side will drive the harder bargain. The stakes are high: Dannie's image at crumbling $GG vs. the Kid's future peace of mind. All we can do at this point is wait and hope the Donster keeps his promise to tell us more in this month's pesthouse newsletter.

Don't touch that dial!

*But as we vowed on Dec. 28, 3:51 PM, IF "One-Hand Dan" is the SOLE co-consecrator on Feb. 22, then we'll admit we overestimated the puppet masters' prudence and underestimated their appetite for cult-annihilating risk.