This blog contains regular postings relating to the Traditional Latin Liturgy of the Roman Catholic Church. It includes regular commentary on the saints days and the liturgical cycle, with brief background and extracts from the liturgy both in Latin and English. Much of the material has been extracted from the 'St Andrew's Daily Missal', Dom Gueranger's 'Liturgical Year', or similar sources.

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Sunday, 13 November 2016

13th November, All Saints of the Benedictine Order

All Saints of the Benedictine Order

How many saints have there been in the Benedictine order? Even the calendar of the canonized and beatified runs to pages! Let alone those who have lived out saintly lives in cloisters, remembered now by none on earth, but dear to God.

The Benedictine Order keeps this day, 13th November, as the annual commemoration of All saints of the Order (this includes Cistercians, by the way). This includes not only professed monks, but Benedictine nuns, and also Oblates of the Order.

Tomorrow will be kept as a commemoration of All Souls of the Order - those who are still in need of prayer to enable them to complete the purgation of their souls and enter into light.

Gaudeamus omnes in Domino, diem festum celebrantes sub honore sanctorum Monachorum: de quorum solemnitate gaudent Angeli, et collaudant Filium Dei. * Exsultate justi in Domino: rectos decet collaudatio.
Let us all rejoice in the Lord, celebrating a festival day in honour of all the saintly monks: at whose solemnity the Angels rejoice, and give praise to the Son of God.* Rejoice in the Lord, ye just: praise becometh the upright.
(Psalm 32:1 from the Introit of Mass)

Concede, quaesumus, omnipotens Deus: ut ad meliorem vitam sanctorum Monachorum exempla nos provocent; quatenus, quorum solemnia agimus, etiam actus imitemur.
We beseech Thee, O Lord, grant that the example of the holy Monks may stir us to a better life, so that we may imitate the actions of those whose solemnity we celebrate.

Avete Solitudinis Claustrique Mites

Hail dwellers in the solitude
And in the lowly cloister cell,
Who steadfast and unshaken stood
Against the raging hordes of hell.

All wealth of gold and precious stone
And glories all of rank and birth
You cast away and trampled on,
With all low pleasures of this earth.

The green fields and the orchards grew
The simple fare whereon ye fed.
The brook was drink enough for you,
And on the hard ground was your bed.

Around you dwelt the venomed snakes,
And fiercest monsters harboured near.
All foul forms that the demon takes
You saw, but would not yield to fear.

Far, far beyond all earthly things
Your burning thoughts would wing their flight,
And hear the holy whisperings
Of angels in the heavenly height.

Thou Father of the heavenly host,
Thou glorious Son of Mary maid,
Thou Paraclete, the Holy Ghost,
To Thee be praise and glory paid.

For further information about this feast, see:

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