UPDATE:

I read the prayer this morning. It is a powerful prayer, to be sure. I hope other priests today will do the same, even if they are late to this post.

Originally Published on: Sep 28, 2019 @ 01:06

I received an email today which must share.

I am writing to let you know of an initiative taking place in Rome tomorrow. It being the Vigil of Michaelmas, various priests will be coming to a church near ___ and privately praying Leo XIII’s Prayer of Exorcism (the so-called long prayer to St Michael). The prayer will be made with the intention of expelling diabolical influence from the Vatican, especially in view of the Amazonian synod. Although I’m not in Rome, I’ll be reciting the same prayer privately, and thought that some of you might like to know about the initiative, in case you wish to do the same. It will take place at around 1530 Roman time, which is 1430 British time and 0930 am in the Eastern USA.

Thanks for this. What a great idea. This is Chapter 3 of Title XI.

Priests now can recite this privately without special permission. That is not what it will say in your old Rituale. The Pontifical Commission “Ecclesia Dei” wrote in 2018 to Bp. Dewayne of Venice, FL, that “this prayer should not be used publicly or privately over persons without express permission of the local Ordinary. Further, public use over places or objects is also prohibited without the permission of the Ordinary. The prayer may be said privately by priests as part of their personal prayer.” This draws on the 29 Sept 1985 letter from the CDF concerning exorcisms.

This prayer can be prayed over places, etc., specifically as rite of exorcism, but that would require the permission of the local Ordinary (in this case, the Bishop of Rome or his Vicar). This, on the other hand, is private recitation by priests who happen to have gathered in the same place – and they can be in other places, too – for the sake of praying against demonic influence in the Vatican.

And who can doubt that the Devil is constantly on the attack? And who can doubt that prayer against the Devil’s attack by priests is a good thing?

I would only add three caveats.

First, if the priests gather in the same place, they can pray the prayer individually, which keeps it private, rather than together, aloud, as a group, which goes beyond private. Also, this shouldn’t be when and where the public can walk in.

I’ve posted before that I made recordings of the Latin of Chapter 3, the long Prayer to St. Michael for the use of priests and bishops to work on their pronunciation. HERE

Laypeople. I really think it best that you not use that prayer. Instead, I urge you to pray the beautiful Lorica of St. Patrick.

PRAYERCAzT: The Lorica of St. Patrick – text and recording

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UPDATE:

I can picture this.

[Scene, a Roman street, with a church facade, not far from the Vatican.]

A youngish sacristan opens the church a half hour before the customary 4:00 afternoon opening. He glances up and down the street, eyes fixing on this and that. Raising his mobile phone, he taps for a moment, pockets it and withdraws into the church.

A minute or two later, cassock and saturno clad priests emerge as if casually from around corners, rosaries in one hand, black satchels in the other. With glances up and down the street, looking perhaps for traffic rather than for tails or watchers, they make their way into the church, tipping their hats to passersby who greet or insult them, to fellow clerics whose route they share.

Within the church the sacristan bustles to switch on lights and light candles at the main altar. A beautiful devotional painting of St. Michael the Archangel is already enthroned at the altar rail with votives aflame.

A priest exposes the Blessed Sacrament, the requisite prayers are sung, swelling as more priests enter, perform their double genuflection, and take a pew. Some remain on the pavement in the side aisles.

Silence.

After a minute, the clerics deposit their rosaries in their saturno on the pew, withdraw small black books from their cases, and ready their hearts and minds for battle.

A priest in the front row rings a small bell.

A liquid sussuration of Latin begins to flow from the many priests, not excluding a modestly dressed bishop or two, each with his own accent, but with precision. This is vocal prayer. It must be pronounced, not merely scanned.

The undulating murmur trails off as priests finish their orations. Some remain to pray while others rise and, after their double genuflections, take rosary, saturno and head for the doorway and sunlight.

Priests take their places in the polished confessionals, draping their violet stoles. Some take advantage and are shriven.

Meanwhile, additional priests entered, during the prayers, with only the sound of the moving door. Some still enter. Now and again, a priest soberly nods to an acquaintance. Another stops to whisper, “Amice, non est mihi liber. Tuum, ut recitam…?” With a smile the one hands his Rituale over to his brother.

The pattern repeats through the allotted time.

Finally, the priest in the front row rings a bells. Benediction is given. The Blessed Sacrament is honored with chant and Divine Praises. All depart.

From the outside, passersby might see a curious number of cassock clad priests flow from the little church. As each one exits he sets the saturno, a rosary drops from the fingers of his free hand, and feet turn to different directions. They go as if casually, tipping their hats at greetings and at insults, with glances about, for traffic, not for tails or watchers.

One priest heads toward the Tiber and home. Having crossed the river, he strides along between the row of ubiquitous cars and the fronts of shops and residential gates. His practiced eyes inspects nooks, corners.

He eyes the open doorway of a coffee bar as he passes. His paces slow to a dead stop.

Turning swiftly, he pockets the rosary. His free hand flexes, fists, flexes again. He steps into the dark of the bar and the odor of coffee and floor cleaner.

“Tracer.”

The only client drains with tosses his two doppio caffè corretto al vetro. With a lift of his fedora’s brim he rotates from the bar toward the cassocked silhouette framed against the light.

“Monsignore.”