A day in the life of Patricius...

I am in good spirits today; it has been a beautiful day, nice and warm and sunny. I had a meeting to attend today at the University (a tedious affair but they are part of the work so one has to put up with them); I got there an hour early so I decided to go and read in the Library. I picked up Bugnini's ''Reform of the Liturgy 1948-1975'' from the shelf and just crouched down. I didn't read much of it, just flicked through the pages. But I did read the stuff on the cover, and was grieved to be reminded that he was in so many influential positions in the Curia for so many years, and under three Popes. What I didn't like reading, however, was the editor's claim that he had more of a right to discuss and document the ''liturgical reform'' than anyone else because of this. Bugnini was no liturgist however; he was a Freemason and a pseudo-philosopher, and worst of all a modernist. Real liturgists (and this principle applies to any discipline, not just theology) do not seek to project their modernist obscenities onto the Liturgy, even worse try to inflict them on everyone else as Bugnini did, in the vain delusion that their views, which run counter to 2000 years of devotion and sound Tradition, are right and are relevant to contemporary man. Real liturgists humbly engage in the Liturgy (it is certainly not their subject or area), expound its riches and remain faithful to the constant Tradition of the Church - like Dom Prosper Guéranger. But I digress, I put the book back after a few moments, and went to my desk to do some work.

The meeting over, I went to do more work. I did (part of) a translation from The Cambridge Latin Course and read one of my Latin fairy stories. I really need to do more grammar though, as I sometimes wade into greats such as Horace or St Leo, which leave me with few practical results! Translation and comprehension give me great pleasure. One task I have set myself when my Latin is sufficient is to try and read De Imitatione Christi in the original. As yet, I have only managed to translate the first three paragraphs of Chapter I (and with some difficulty). Maybe one day something will ''click'' and I'll be able to do anything; that day is a long way off though...

When I had finished in the Library, I wandered off to say a few prayers in the Cathedral. I stayed to listen to the choir sing ''Vespers'' too, which was ok. The choir sang the Veni Creator Spiritus (which I find profoundly moving) - only ruined by the spectacle of a woman getting up from her pew and doing some kind of ''liturgical'' dance - all in the spirit of Vatican II I'll warrant. Got the train home, ate my fish and chips, and then turned on my Nintendo. My dinosaur of a TV kept switching itself off though, so I came online. And thats me up to now! The Sun hasn't quite set yet, but it promises to be magnificent. As Tolkien wrote in August 1944 ''it may portend some celestial merriment in the morn, as the glass is rising.''

Now in his Palace of the West, Sinking to slumber, the bright Day, Like a tired monarch fann'd to rest, 'Mid the cool airs of Evening lay; While round his couch's golden rim The gaudy clouds, like courtiers, crept-- Struggling each other's light to dim, And catch his last smile e'er he slept. (Thomas Moore, The Summer Fete).

Have a great Pentecost all readers!