Until the Son of Man is risen, tell no one of the vision you have seen...


Am about to say Vespers as the gentle rain continues to fall; it has come down irregularly this afternoon-- there was an hour or so with great gusts of wind but I was occupied with nonsense and didn't get out into it. The antiphon supra is sung at the Magnificat and is taken from today's Gospel of the Transfiguration, which is also tomorrow's Gospel. The Mass is composed of parts from several different sources, I read earlier today at Liturgia-- M. de Villiers's work, I presume-- although I don't remember which ones are from where, apart from the Gospel, obviously. My confusion this morning, as I was putting the Mass texts for today into the notebook where I store such information and realized about the Gospel texts, was a sight to behold, I don't doubt; finally figured out what was going on but, ha, it took a few minutes. And Dom Prosper and Blessed Ildefonso both discuss the matter, too. Eh; I ought to adopt the rule, 'always read their essays in the first available twenty minutes of the morning' but so often their prose is tiresomely purple: I'm no longer as sedulous in attending to them as I once was. There are occasions, however, when both venerable writers seem inspired, as it were.