Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 40: sedes stercoraria

We end our 40 days of Catholic things with one of the more legendary items in papal history. The sedes stercoraria, or posterior chair, was said to be used to check the gender of newly-elected popes. The new pope would sit on the chair, and it would be someone's ticklish duty to make sure that the pope had the appropriate male parts. 

The only problem is that there's no record of this ever happening. The purpose for this chair is derived from the hole in the seat - whose actual purpose is unknown, as what existing chairs there are date from Roman times - and the Pope Joan legend, where a woman was purportedly elected pope and only discovered when she gave birth during a procession. Just as there is no record of newly-elected popes getting a ball check, there's also no historical record to confirm a female pope. The legend persists, to some extent because there's no proof (evidence of a Vatican coverup!).

I did stumble across one article that suggested that these chairs were used to verify if a man (not sure if it was a pope specifically or clergy in general) had been castrated. So maybe there's something to the testicle theory.

So there you go. Another Lentorama come and gone. Hope all three of you enjoyed.  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 39: ferraiolo

You likely saw one of these during the recent papal election. It's a long cape, running from the shoulders to the ankles, bound by fabric strips tied around or near the neck. Color varies by rank, as with most vestments. They're typically non-ornamented and worn for formal, non-liturgical occasions.

The best-known wearer of one of these was Bishop Fulton Sheen, who always donned one during his TV appearances. I don't know if you can use the phrase "big pimpin'" in relation to Catholic vestments, but if you can, you'd probably use it for someone wearing one of these. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 38: ablaq

So between the Crusades and the Moorish invasion of Europe, there's a certain amount of Christian and Islamic intermingling, and ablaq would be an example of that. The term describes the use of alternating dark and light rows of stone or brick in religious buildings. Mosques had this as a regular feature for centuries before it started showing up in Christian buildings (the cathedral of Pisa is an example), and became a feature of Romanesque architecture.  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 37: ambry

Also known as an almery or aumbrie, the ambry is a recess in a church wall, or a cabinet attached to a wall, where holy oils are kept. There were a number of specific rules about the ambry, related to keeping it locked, lining it with specific colors of cloth, and what sort of decoration would be on and around the ambry, but they've been relaxed in more recent times.  Oils can be kept and/or displayed in other ways, while the ambry can now also be used to store other implements.

On a side note, the name is related to the word armoire.

 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 36: chrism

Chrism is the oil used to anoint babies at baptism, teens at confirmation, and priests when they take holy orders. It's basically olive oil scented with a perfume or resin (balsam is apparently popular now, myrrh being the more traditional addition).

New batches of chrism are consecrated in a special mass celebrated by the local bishop on Holy Thursday. He apparently consecrates a large batch, with churches getting their supply from it.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 35: intinction

This is the practice of giving communion of bread and wine by dipping the bread into the wine. Not surprisingly, if you're Catholic you can only take communion this way by mouth. Can't have the blood of Christ on your hands. You also can't do the dunking yourself, while that's OK in some Protestant branches. This is apparently always an option when both bread and wine are available, though I've never seen it done. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 34: Red Mass

The Red Mass is an annual service aimed at seeking guidance for lawyers, law students, elected officials and anyone else whose work aims to serve justice. The color red references both the tongues of fire aimed at the apostles at Pentecost, as well as the traditional color of legal robes in the Middle Ages.

Of the various Red Masses celebrated currently, perhaps the best known one in the US is held in Washington before the start of a new Supreme Court term. Various mucky-mucks attend, including several Justices (Scalia probably gets a front-pew seat). In recent years some or all of the female members of the Court have given it a miss, objecting to anti-abortion sermons.

The oldest Red Mass in the US, held for over 100 years, takes place at the University of Detroit Mercy School of Law.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 33: cornette

This variety of the wimple was used by both religious and non-religious women starting in the Middle Ages, but eventually becoming the signature headgear of the Daughters of Charity.   Unlike the typical wimple, these were larger, folded versions that were starched to have pointy bits that look like horns.

If you've ever seen an episode of The Flying Nun, you've seen a cornette. It was the distinctive folds that allowed Sister Bertrille to take off.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 32: lipsanotheca

Sticking with reliquaries, this is the name for the box that actually holds the relics inside the larger box. Why it needs a name is an excellent question. I have nothing to add to this, other than to note that some examples of reliquaries may actually have been the box inside the box. Woo hoo. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 31: cumdach

A cumdach is a reliquary case for a book, usually one used by an Irish saint in the Middle Ages. They were usually created well after the book (the few remaining examples date around 1000, while the books tend to have dates up to 800). The front and back usually bear a cross design with complementary ornamentation. They were typically made of precious metals and studded with gems and other semi-precious stones. Not surprisingly, they were favorite targets of thieves, which explains why there are so few remaining.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 30: pall

So the partner to yesterday's corporal is the pall, a stiff card covered in white linen (and usually embroidered with a cross and/or other appropriate symbols) that's put over the chalice to keep things from falling in. Don't want any houseflies getting into the Blood of Christ.

There term pall is also used to describe the cloth that covers a casket during a funeral. These palls started as cloths similar to other vestments, then became black, and are now white with a large cross design. In either case, the term pall refers back to the burial shroud of Jesus, bringing everything back around with regards to the Eucharist. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 29: corporal

This is the cloth on which the various Eucharistic vessels are placed while communion is being prepared. Something like this has been in use since early times (there are mentions going back to the fourth century), and was required to be linen in reflection of Jesus's burial cloth (though there are examples of corporals in other materials, like silk or cloth of gold). It's gotten smaller over time, as communion moved from actual loaves of bread to wafers.

There were (and to some extent still are) a variety of rules about the corporal, from blessing it before each use to who can wash it and how, and how it was supposed to be stored. So for a simple white cloth, it's a pretty important piece of kit.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 28: zucchetto

Kind of a Catholic yarmulke (in style if not in practice), this skullcap can be worn by an member of the clergy, with various colors denoting a specific rank or honor (black is the basic color, but they can also be scarlet, violet, brown or white). The pope can wear any color, but typically wears the white one to match his vestments. They're worn under mitres and birettas, and can be worn with any vestments but not with a suit.

This is the hat that gave me the idea for this year's Lentorama, as I was interested in the similarity of this name and the zucchini. Turns out the zucchetto got its name from its similarity to a half a pumpkin, which makes me wonder why there isn't an orange one.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 27: triregnum

The mother of all papal headgear, this is the Latin name for the papal tiara or crown that was used in papal coronations until recent times. The details of how it went from one to two to three tiaras isn't clear, though there's some thought that the move from one to two represented the spiritual and temporal power of the pope when there were Papal States to rule. In any case, the crown tended to be beehive-shaped and made up of the usual combination of precious metals and jewels that you'd see in any royal crown.

John XXIII was the last to wear one in any regular way, and Paul VI was the last to have one used at his coronation. The coronation itself fell out of favor with the John Pauls, and Benedict XVI didn't even incorporate one into his personal coat of arms, opting for a mitre (as has Francis). While the tiara hasn't been banned, it seems unlikely to come back into favor any time soon, which is probably for the best.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 26: saturno

Also called a capello romano (Roman hat), this is a wide-brimmed hat similar in look to the galero, but without the braids and other frippery (though the pope's has gold braids). Unlike most vestments there's no liturgical history behind it. It's just a hat that clergy started to wear and occasionally still do. The pope's is scarlet, everyone else's is black. The saturno name comes from it looking like the planet Saturn (the crown being the planet and the brim a ring).  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 25: mitre

The hat which gives rise to all the pointy hat jokes. They're only supposed to be worn by bishops and abbots, but the occasional non-bishoped cardinal is given dispensation to wear one as well, I suppose to fit in with his colleagues.

Eastern churches use a mitre that's derived from the crown of the Byzantine emperor, and thus is rounder and kind of bulbous (like the crown is enclosed in whatever material the mitre is made from). They're more ornate than Western mitres (at least the ones in use now, which have been moving away from the jewel-encrusted versions), and stand out quite a bit. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 24: galero

The galero is a wide-brimmed hat with large tassels hanging off the side, and up until Vatican II it was the hat given to newly-made cardinals as a symbol of office (after Vatican II it was the biretta, a more common hat that, as noted yesterday, is used by clergy at all levels). It was originally conferred by Innocent IV so he could pick out cardinals in a crowd.

While Vatican II did away with the galero, some cardinals continued to acquire them privately. There was also a tradition of hanging a cardinal's galero over their tomb until it decayed into nothing (a reminder of how we came from earth and will return to earth), which has subsided but not entirely gone away. At least one cardinal, Raymond Burke, has gone back to wearing the galero, which isn't surprising given how far things have shifted to the right since Vatican II. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 23: biretta

Another theme week, this time it's all about headgear. Today's topper is a square hat with three or four peaks or horns, often topped with a pom-pom. The color and ornamentation of the biretta changes based on position - cardinals wear a scarlet one with no pom-pom, bishops get one that's amaranth in color but with a purple pom-pom, while lower ranks typically wear black (and may or may not have a pom-pom, and that of a particular color, based on specific titles or positions).

The biretta apparently derives from academic headgear of the middle ages, and is still the appropriate hat for someone earning a doctorate from a pontifical university, in which case the color varies based on the subject of the degree. If nothing else, it's more interesting looking than a mortarboard.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 22: sedia gestatoria

This ceremonial throne was basically a large sedan chair, with the pope being carried aloft by a dozen footmen. Over time its use became more limited, going from a regular conveyance to use in ceremonial functions, but it didn't fall into disuse until John Paul II (John Paul I originally didn't want to ride in it, but Vatican staff talked him into it, the Curia strikes again). From JP2 forward we've traded this in for the Popemobile, which is win-win when you consider the pope gets a more modern vehicle and we get to use the term Popemobile.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 21: Ring of the Fisherman

Part of the papal regalia, this ring shows Peter fishing (a reference to both the first pope and the role of the Apostles as "fishers of men") and has the pope's name on it. It was used as a signet ring well into the 19th century, but is now strictly ornamental (and often not worn at all, though Benedict XVI wore his daily, which fits his sartorial theme of throwbacks).

Even though it's no longer used to seal official documents, the ring is still treated as an official symbol of office, leading to a ceremony upon the death (or now, resignation) of a pope where the ring is destroyed to ensure no one uses the ring for fraudulent purposes. That we've reached a point where fraud comes out of the Vatican on a regular basis without the need of a ring is another matter entirely.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 20: fanon

Another item that Benedict XVI decided to bring back, the fanon is circular cape-like thing with two layers (the top smaller than the bottom), with other vestments worn under or over the two layers (I won't even try to explain what goes where). It's white with gold stripes, and serves no real purpose that I can determine. Originally it could be worn by any priest, but by the Middle Ages is pope-only.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 19: camauro

The camauro is a winter hat worn by the pope, generally red with white ermine trim. And even for papal headgear, it's dopey looking. It's somehow related to academic headgear as something monks wore to make up for tonsure-related heat loss. It's apparently one of the many bits of papal clothing that Benedict XVI brought back from disuse, and for my money should be the first one the new guy puts in the back corner of the closet.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 18: umbraculum

The umbraculum is what it sounds like - an umbrella. In its first use it was used to provide shade for the pope, but over time became a symbol of both the pope's authority over the church and the pope's temporal role as a monarch (not surprisingly, that came about during the Borgia pope era). There was a time when the umbraculum had bells on it so people would know the pope was coming, which I kind of wish was still the case. 

Basilicas are presented with an umbraculum when elevated to that status, with the colors and fabric indicating if its a minor or major basilica.

Of particular interest now is that the Vatican coat of arms changes when there is no pope to feature an umbraculum with silver and gold keys. Check it out for yourself (note: the coat of arms will have changed back when a pope is elected, so act now!).

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 17: pope emeritus

So it's Pope Week here at Lentorama, every day this week we'll have items specific related to the Vicar of Rome. Today's entry is relatively new, given that there's not been a need for a specific term to describe a retired pope in 700 years or so.

I have to admit to being a little underwhelmed at the title. I was expecting something grander, or at least in Latin (really, would pontifex priscus have been so hard?).

I was also taken by the amount of coverage given to the retirement (or abdication if you want to consider the pope's role as ruler of Vatican City), or maybe just the sense that popes shouldn't retire. I can understand surprise - that a pope could retire seemed like the biggest surprise since people were reminded a couple of seasons ago that NFL games can end in a tie - but the pope is still human, and there's a refreshing sense of self-awareness that if one isn't up to the task, it's time to make way for someone who is (which isn't necessarily a jab at JP2, but rather support for the idea that the individual in the role should make the call to stay or go irrespective of tradition, etc.).

Anyway, more talk of papal stuff to come.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 16: paten

The paten can be one of two things, a rare case of double duty. It can be the shallow dish or bowl that holds hosts prior to consecration (and can be used by lay ministers to hold consecrated hosts for distribution during communion). It can also be the metal plate with handle attached that's thrust under the chin of those taking communion by mouth to catch the host if it falls or if part of the host doesn't make it into the person's mouth.

I had to operate the paten in my altar boy days (this was when communion by hand was just becoming popular), and I don't think I ever had to catch a host on it Which is a good thing, as my hand-eye coordination wasn't great.  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 15: pyx

The pyx is a small, round container used to transport consecrated hosts to the sick or other people unable to go to mass. In some cases the pyx is put into a special case called a burse, which is made out of a fabric or leather and worn so that the pyx and the hosts inside do not get lost.

The term is also used to describe any small box or holder, and its name suggests that early models were made of boxwood (modern pyxes are made of metal, typically). The glass-walled insert that holds the host in a monstrance or other display can also be called a pyx, though you wouldn't cart it around to give communion.