Category Archives: Saints

Naming Spiritual Communities in the Sarum Rite

I was thinking aloud a few days ago about the liturgical act of acknowledging the dimensions of our spiritual community. It occurs to me that a quick glance at the Sarum Rite will give some really interesting examples of what I mean… (Note: most of the things I say here will be broadly applicable to the Historic Western Liturgy—I’m just focusing on the Late Sarum because it gives a nice nailed-down example that I can conveniently point to.)

First, there’s the exercise of the capitular office. Four major things happened here. First, it was the monastic/cathedral daily check-in meeting. Second, there was a reading from the Rule or the Fathers. Items three and four are the reason I’m bring it up. Third, it was a list of obits that identified anyone in the community’s records who had died on that day. Fourth, the hagiographies were reviewed for the saints who would be celebrated that evening and the next day.

Before Mass on Sundays there was a procession. That procession would include the following prayers bid by the priest “in the mother tongue”:

 “Let us make our Prayers to God,” [here was sometimes added, “Our Lord Jesu Christ, to our Ladie S. Mary, and all the Company of Heaven,”] beseeching His Mercy for all Holy Church, that God keep it in good estate, especially the Church of England, our Mother Church, this Church, and all others in Christendom.” [Here sometimes was added, “For our Lord the Pope, for the Patriarch of Jerusalem, for the Cardinals.”] “For the Archbishops and Bishops, and especially for our Bishop N., that God keep him in his holy service. For the Dean or Rector, or all other Ministers, that serve this Church.” [This was sometimes varied “For your ghostly father, and for Priests and Clerkes that herein serve or have ferved, for all men and women of religion, for all other men of Holy Church.”] For the Holy Land [and the Holy Cross], that God deliver it out of the hand of the heathen; for the Peace of the Church and of the earth; for our Sovereign Lord the King, and the Qyeen, and all their children. For [Dukes, Earls, and Barons, and for all that have the peace of this land to keep], all that have this land to govern. For the welfare of N. and N., and all this Church’s friends. [For all that live in deadly sin.] For our brethren and sisters, and all our Parishioners, and all that do any good to this Church or Foundation. For yourselves, that God for His mercy grant you grace so to live as your soul to save, and for all true Christian people.

Thus we’ve got a naming here of a whole bunch of folks—from the saints to the geographically dispersed to the deceased to one another. It does name quite a community to keep in mind.

At the beginning of the Mass itself, we have a form of the Confiteor:

I confess to God, to blessed Mary, to all the saints, and to you, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, and deed, by my fault : I pray holy Mary, all the saints of God,  and you, to pray for me.

I’m more used to the modern form where it calls out more of the saints by name, however, Not only does the Confiteor name the saints—mirroring the prayer at the procession—it places them in the proper relationship to us; we pray together for one another.

The beginning of the Canon of the Mass likewise begins with a very clear naming of the gathered spiritual community (rubrics are parenthetical):

…together with thy servants our Pope N. and our Bishop N. (That is to say, the bishop of the diocese only,) and our King N. (The above persons are mentioned by name. Then shall follow : ) and all who are orthodox, and who hold the catholic and apostolic faith. Remember, O Lord, thy servants and thy handmaidens N. and N. (in praying for whom a due order dictated by charity ought to be observed. The priest prays five times : firstly for himself; secondly for his father and mother, that is to say both carnal and spiritual, and for his other relations; thirdly, for his special friends, parishioners and otherwise; fourthly, for all persons present; fifthly, for all Christian people; and here the priest may commend all his own friends to God. I counsel, however, that no one should pause at this point too long, both on account of possible distractions of mind, and also on account of suggestions which may be made by evil angels, as well as on account of other dangers.) and all here present, whose faith is approved, and whose devotion is known to thee; on behalf of whom we offer unto thee, or who offer unto thee this sacrifice of praise, for themselves and for all pertaining to them, for the redemption of their souls, for the hope of their own salvation and security, and who are paying their vows unto thee, the eternal, living, and true God. In communion with and reverencing the memory, in the first place, of the glorious and ever virgin (inclining a little as he says,) Mary, mother of our God and Lord Jesus Christ ; As also of thy blessed apostles and martyrs—Peter, Paul, Andrew, James, John, Thomas, James, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Simon, and Thaddseus, Linus, Cletus, Clement, Sixtus, Cornelius, Cyprian. Laurence, Chrysogonus, John and Paul, Cosmas and Damian, and of all thy saints; through whose merits and prayers do thou grant that in all things we may be defended by the aid of thy protection. Through the same Christ our Lord. Amen.

That initial “together” kicks off quite a clear naming of who all has gathered: the living, the dead, the saints, and anybody else who might not fall neatly into any of those categories.

That’s just a few examples; doubtless many more could be produced. Notice something here: all of these prayers are very much present tense. The point is not that they’re liturgically remembering historical figures—however fondly. Rather, these prayers are naming the current, present members of the spiritual community whether they happen to be visibly present or not.

Now, this rite does a great job with this liturgical naming—when it’s considered as a text. The actual liturgical experience of it would be quite different. The laity would hear the processional prayer in their native tongue;  the monastic or cathedral Chapter would here the capitular office; the confiteor would be heard by the altar party and basically only the priest would have heard the section that starts the Canon. There’s a great ecclesiology present here; the fact that so much of it is liturgically inaccessible to the majority of the physically gathered community does seem a little ironic.

Perspective on the Saints

I wrote this a while ago for use on the Cafe, and—given both my current train of thought and the time of year—thought it was worth re-sharing.

One of the approaches that I was specifically trying here was an alternate form of persuasion. That is, there are all sorts of readers at the Cafe, some of a churchmanship not amenable to the notion of saints. My goal here was to make more of an affective or poetic appeal for the concept rather than logical argumentation.

———

A cold wind flaps my coat-tails and whirls a cloud of dead leaves about my feet as I walk my elder daughter to the bus stop. They rasp voicelessly on the concrete and my thoughts finds them a flock with words, warnings, pleas, spoken—but not understood. A passage of Homer flickers to mind: Odysseus, sword drawn, keeping the rustling flock of shades at bay from the invigorating blood of the black sheep that gives back voice to a fallen comrade, to an ancient prophet, to the hero’s mother—strangers joined only in death. For the dead have been on my mind.

It’s only natural, I suppose—in the most literal kind of way. As the sun rounds another corner, the hours of night overtake the day; the vibrant star’s light dims to watery wintry shadow and, harvest passing, the fields fall fallow—corn stubble awaiting a blanket of snow. The signs of the earth turn to sleep or death. With signals like these it’s only natural my pagan precursors identified the passage from day’s supremacy to night’s to be a passage between worlds, a time when the dead souls return to be blown about our lands toothlessly muttering words, warnings, pleas to the living. With the coming of Christ to the British Isles, the soul cakes were offered to wandering strangers rather than the family dead; flickering faces lit visitors rather than turning away spiteful spirits. For All Hallows’ Eve and All Hallows and All Souls replaced and displaced the former pagan feast.

All Hallows—or All Saints as we know it now (the Latinate “saints” replacing the Saxon with the same sense)—is something of a confusion in these latter days. Who we remember, what we remember, and why has been blurred: sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose. All Saints, All Souls, and the difference between them lie at the intersection of the Church’s musings on Scripture, on the Church Expectant, the Church Triumphant, and the overarching principle of the baptized dead knit into the living Christ.

All Hallows is for the Church Triumphant, those spirits and souls of the righteous who already rejoice in the ineffable splendor of the appearance of the glory of God. For these are those who already harmonize in the great chorus and who unceasingly lay down their petitions before the Throne, praying for we who yet linger here.

All Souls is for the Church Expectant who rest from their labors, who sleep in the earth awaiting the last trumpet when the earth shall flee away, the sky roll like a scroll, and our great company shall throng to the judgment seat.

Images fill my mind, of the Great Judgment, the Last Day, snatches of songs, paintings half- remembered from medieval books on penitence and prayer. Pre-modern in aspect, pre-modern in assumptions, a pervading truth permeates the scenes. It shall not be as they envisioned, it shall not be as I envision and yet…

And yet…

My mind turns to the font and the flood for this is the center of this belief that yea, though they die, yet shall they live, knit to the marrow, the sinew, the bone, knit in the body of the Living Christ. Held in the mind of God, held in the heart of God, whatever our state of wake or rest we are hid with Christ in God.

Today we walked amongst the dead.

As sunlight filtered through fallen lives, my girls and I sat with gravestones.

Walnuts lay thick their husks and shells, and we sat and filled bags—much to the squirrels’ chagrin. Down on my knees, I dug out the walnuts, cleared them away with the rest of the parish volunteers. My flirtatious five-year old finding a friend, laughed and skipped as she gathered the shells, laughter pealing like little bells over mossy stones and markers. The other, tired, threw herself upon a marble slab and stared at the sunlit sky. At first I tried to hush and shush them, to remind them of the reverence due this place, and then I thought of the music of voices and of how they rang in this silent space and remembered that we walked among friends. And a trumpet sounded its clarion call, the sound drifting over the waiting stones, but it came from the organ inside of the church that lay at the center of the stones—tuning for the day’s second service. St. Paul’s words then came to my mind: “Sleeper awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.”

No Homeric scene this with the blood of goats and shades that mutter and warn. There is blood, it gives life—but not as the old poet sang. For the cup that we share and the loaf that we break is a sharing in the life of our God. And here in the church-yard we gather as one—those on high, those in sleep, those awake—and we gather at the table that is an altar and a tomb and we share in the mysteries of God. For the communion we share links the living and dead, finds all those knit together in Christ, and invites us to share in the promise of that place, a life hid together in God.

Another Issue with HWHM

I’m working on a longer piece on Holy Women, Holy Men (about which more later) but I think it finally hit me what one of the major problems of one of the central new categories is. I didn’t notice it until I’d fully digested the rhetorical structure of the collects.

One of the tendencies of the new additions is to group like people together and to produce a collect that speaks to all of them. Here are some examples:

Divine Physician, your Name is blessed for the work
and witness of the Mayos and the Menningers, and the
revolutionary developments that they brought to the practice
of medicine. As Jesus went about healing the sick as a sign
of the reign of God come near, bless and guide all those
inspired to the work of healing by thy Holy Spirit, that they
may follow his example for the sake of thy kingdom and the
health of thy people; through the same Jesus Christ, who
with thee and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth, one God,
now and for ever. Amen.

[btw—we’re going to ignore for the moment the presence of a “your” in a Rite I prayer and focus on the structure…]

Eternal God, who didst inspire Anna Julia Haywood
Cooper and Elizabeth Evelyn Wright with the love
of learning and the joy of teaching: Help us also to
gather and use the resources of our communities for the
education of all thy children; through Jesus Christ our
Savior, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy
Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

As the heavens declare thy glory, O God, and the
firmament showeth thy handiwork, we bless thy Name for
the gifts of knowledge and insight thou didst bestow upon
Nicolaus Copernicus and Johannes Kepler; and we pray
that thou wouldst continue to advance our understanding
of thy cosmos, for our good and for thy glory; through
Jesus Christ, the firstborn of all creation, who with thee
and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth, one God, for ever
and ever. Amen.

Are you seeing a pattern here? This is what I see… At its most reductionistic, it goes like this:

O God, we thank you for A. and B. who were great Xs. Help us to be great Xs too. Thanks.

What’s the problem here? It’s that we’re not just trying to form Xs—we’re trying to form Christians. Whether they were good at their job or not (however holy that job might be), is not the point. The point should be that these specific people displayed the incarnate presence of Christ in their lives and thus were part of the sacramental conversion of all creation.

Liturgical Naming of Spiritual Communities

Our creeds tell us that we believe in “the communion of saints.”

Our Eucharists tell us that, in the consecratory act we are “joining our voices with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven.”

These are important but rather non-specific ways of talking about our larger eccesiology. These two statements remind us that when we gather in the church on a Sunday morning (or other times) for a Eucharist there are more who gather than we see; our “we” and “us” are not simply limited to those physically and visibly present.

The Rite I Post-Communion Prayer may say it best: “we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, the blessed company of all faithful people…”

Now—“all faithful people” has a pretty wide scope. This helps break open the sense that we are more than the folks in this room, but almost broadens the scope to near incomprehension, not leaving us much better than we were to begin with.

How do we get a concrete sense of who these people are?

The central place where we get a picture of this in an Anglican environment is the church kalendar. Specifying people to be liturgically celebrated in Mass, the Offices, or both, is our primary vehicle for naming the company who surrounds us and joins us when we gather for worship.

In most of the Anglo-Catholic places I’ve been, a litany of the saints is chanted during the procession to the font during the rite of Baptism which seems a particularly appropriate time to be naming the saints who surround us and who have preceded it into the Body of Christ.

In both the kalendar and the litany, the church never claims—should never claim—that its lists are exhaustive. Rather, they are representational. They indicate a tiny fraction of this great host—just enough for us to get a sense of what kind of people inhabit our spiritual community. Furthermore, the Commons of the saints present us with helpful categories for grouping and conceptualize those who are in this company.

So—to summarize—the liturgy’s construction of the sanctoral cycle and sanctoral categories performs a valuable function in terms of giving us a tangible, comprehensible sense of who the church is.

More on this to follow…

New Post at the Cafe

I have a new partial post up at the Episcopal Cafe. This one is on the Blessed Virgin and, specifically, the arguments around the word “virgin.” The way Jim divided the piece, today’s chunk focuses on the virgin birth of Jesus which means tomorrow or—more likely—Wednesday’s section will deal with the issue of the perpetual virginity of Mary, the arguments over whether Mary had more children after Jesus. If today’s seems a little skimpy, that’s because the heart of the discussion and the pay-off is located at the end of the next chunk.

Kalendars and Ecclesiologies

As part of the forthcoming upgrade to the breviary, I’ve been tinkering with the way that I generate my liturgical dates. I did have a system where I had to sit down and figure everything out for each year for each kalendar. Needless to say, this took a fair amount of time and caused a certain amount of duplicated work (which programmers hate).

I’m moving to a rule-based system that determines the temporal date, checks for major BCP occasions, then adds in any Days of Optional Observance based on the preferred kalendar. In order to make the magic happen, I’ve been sorting through a whole bunch of liturgical kalendars:

  • the BCP
  • Holy Women, Holy Men
  • the current Roman system
  • the Order of the Holy Cross
  • the Order of Julian of Norwich
  • Exciting Holiness (the CoE’s)
  • the Knott/English Missal
  • the Anglican Missal (functionally the Roman ’62)

All told, this makes 806 liturgical observances.

There are a lot of overlaps between the kalendars (i.e., some observances are celebrated in all 8, many are in at least 3 or 4), nor does this reflect the number of saints within these various kalendars (given that some observances celebrate no one—like days within the octave of the Nativity—and some celebrate several—like the feast of Basilides, Cyrinus, Nabor, and Nazarius or, a personal favorite, Ursula and the 11,000 virgins…)

Having all of this data collected in one table opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities for looking at it and reflecting on it. While I haven’t even begun to do that, some very general observations do come to mind:

  • The people we pray with and about have an awful lot to do with how we construct our own mental ecclesiology. If one of the things that a sanctorale does is to remind us of who all is contained in the communion of the saints, then different kalendars end up giving us very different answers and, as a result, sketch different pictures of who the church is.
  • Holy Women, Holy Men—which I’ve bashed many times in the past for a variety of offenses—takes on a new light when placed in relation to the Exciting Holiness, the ordo of the OHC (particularly the one in the monastic breviary that clearly predates HWHM), and the Knott Missal. This doesn’t necessarily mean that this new light becomes a favorable light, but adding in these relationships does help me see where some of the commemorations are coming from and why they are placed on the dates that they are.
  • That having been said, a very interesting diagram could be made mapping two different axes, the genetic relationships and theological intentions of the kalendars. Of course, two more kalendars would have to be added in first: a “pure” pre-conciliar kalendar, most likely the Pius X revision, and the Sarum kalendar…
  • The one major factor that immediately comes to my mind is the place of the martyrs. Within the big list, 213 of the 806 observances are of martyrs (26%). When we parse individual kalendars or groups of kalendars distinct patterns emerge. The highest martyr count goes without a doubt to the Anglican Missal and this is not solely due to theological grounds but rests partly on logistical grounds: this kalendar is one of few that includes commemorations and thus can—and does—have multiple observances within a single calendar day. (Which , yes, is in and of itself a theological decision…) That having been said, of the Anglican Missal’s 339 discrete liturgical observances, 138 are of martyrs (41%). By way of comparison, of Holy Women, Holy Men’s 272 discrete observances, only 39 are identified as being occasions celebrating martyrs (14%). One factor here is chronological—on the balance, HWHM has more observances from and relating to the modern era than the AM (no firm breakdown on this yet, but that can be obtained…) and thus far fewer individuals from the era of Roman persecution, but this sends a major theological and ecclesiological message.  The church sketched by the Anglican Missal is a church composed in large part by those who died rather than alter their faith. However, the church sketched by Holy Women, Holy Men with both its lack of early martyrs and its many modern entries sketches a church made up of more “ordinary” people in “regular” (to us) contexts embodying their faith.
  • There’s quite a lot more to be said here in relation to these few issues that I’ve raised and the additional material contained within this data. I’m thinking a decent-sized journal article could easily come out of all of this…

Marian Pondering

When it comes to supplementing my BCP Offices, my inclination is to trend towards the English Office. It’s a great little supplement book but has a few issues. My major one, of course, is that it’s on the pre-conciliar kalendar which means there are a quite a number of items that don’t match up.

The first edition of the English Office was published in 1956. Reforms were just getting underway, particularly in the kalendar department. As a result, we find this note in the quite brief General Rubrics:

THE OFFICE. The Office of the day is either double or simple. Doubles of the First and Second Class have a first Evensong; other Offices begin at Mattins. The observance of simple feasts ends before Evensong.

Ok—so, the shape of the day envisioned here is still the old version where feasts begin at Evensong or liturgical sunset the night before. Simples conclude after Nones, before the start of the next Evensong. However, the kalendar rules had already shifted more towards the natural day pattern which became much more rigid after Vatican II. The sign of this move is that First Vespers are only granted to Doubles of the First and Second classes. For most feasts this wasn’t a problem. (In a sly to move to decrease the weekly psalm allotment) Most feasts in the General Roman Kalendar by the 1920 reforms of Pius the Xth were Doubles. Only 30 days out of the whole year had simple feasts. However, in the English Office these days only get a Mattins and no Evensong.

The Saturday Office of the BVM is always reckoned as a Simple. Thus, as far as the English Office is concerned—no Evensong on Friday. Saturday’s Evening is always the First Evensong of Sunday. As a result, the Saturday Office only ever ends up being a Mattins of the BVM.

In places that recognize the Saturday Office is this how you do it or are there other alternatives in play?

A Blessed Feast of St Bede To All!

Yesterday’s First Vespers started the Feast of St Bede, patron of the breviary and my very favorite Anglo-Saxon monastic saint.

And my apologies to those who celebrated the First Vespers of St Bede at the breviary yesterday; duties at home kept me from checking the page until late last night when I discovered to my chagrin that I neglected to add the Proper readings to the Year 2 lectionary… Then this morning I discovered that the contemplative shellfish had returned; the hymn mentions the soul of the monastic saint resting in the “clam of quiet love”. Richard had mentioned this and I’d fixed it before but apparently I hadn’t changed it in the master—as has now been done…

In any case, a blessed feast to all!

On Confessors in the Sarum Kalendar

I just took a crawl through the kalendar of the Sarum Breviary (I know—a modern one…). Of the confessors listed, there are precisely two who are not listed as either bishops,  archbishops, popes or abbots:

  • Petrocii Conf. (June 4th) concerning whom I’ve been able to find no data (and who isn’t in the Warren edition of the Missal).
  • Translatio S. Edwardi regis et confessoris, inferius duplex, ix. lectiones. (Oct 13) Royalty—not clergy.

Jerome is an odd case. He’s listed as: Hieronymi presbyteri et doctoris, festum inferius duplex, ix lectiones. He’s the only “doctor” present so theoretically he ought to be considered a Confessor as well.

There’s only one saint in the Sarum kalendar designated as “presbyteri” with no other qualifications and that’s the memorial of Eusebii presbyteri. (Aug 14) whose status is questionable. This Eusebius was a priest of Rome who may be a confessor or may be a martyr—it’s unclear. In any case, he is the only “presbyterus” in the Sarum kalendar who’s not a martyr.

So—while in theory the Confessor category included all non-apostle/martyr/virgin/monks, functionally speaking it was for bishops and abbots.

On the Carolingian Commons of Saints

AKMA asked on the post below why I was equating Ardo’s use of “prelates” to “confessors” in the discussion of the place of St Martin. There’s a good answer for that but it takes more space than I can get in a com-box so I’m moving it here to a new post.

The short answer is that Ardo seems to be utilizing the traditional Carolingian framework for Commons and Martin fits into the “Confessor” slot,  in the Carolingian West “Confessor” was regularly assumed to mean “clergy” and preeminently “bishop”, and St Martin (of Tours, naturally) is noted as a bishop and confessor  in the Carolingian kalendars, was one of the great heroes of the monastic West, and thus the exemplar of his category.

Now I’ll trot out the evidence that supports all of this…

First, let’s note that Ardo is utilizing a common trope but is using “prettified” language that may obscure the trope a little for those not used to his sources.

Dipping into the Latin (I’m relying here on PL 103, col. 565A [this whole bit is in Migne’s section 26]), it reads: “Petrus et Paulus capita sunt apostolorum; Stephanus protomartyr principatum tenet in choro testium; Martinus vero gemma refulget praesulum; Benedictus cunctorum est Pater monachorum.”

In a standard sacramentary, lectionary, or homiliary, the entries for the Temporale and Sanctorale would be followed by a group of generic templates for use in celebrating local or, at least, non-universal saints. They were arranged in order of their liturgical importance and came with both singular and plural versions—Common of One Apostle, of Many Apostles, of One Martyr, of Many Martyrs, of One Confessor, of Many Confessors, of One Virgin, and of Many Virgins. The commune sanctorum was never a completely formalized set, however. Nevertheless, the order above is the exact order given in the Missal of Robert of Jumieges and is the standard order of the Hadrianum supplement which recent scholarship (cf. Vogel) has identified as the very work of Benedict of Aniane rather than Alcuin as earlier believed.

So, in the little snippet quoted above Ardo gives us Apostles, Martyrs but uses the flowery term “in choro testium”, then [Martin] using the term “praesulum”, then monks. The order seems to me to mirror the usual commons even if he’s not explicitly using the usual terms.

Moving to other points of evidence, we need to look at the hymns appointed for All Saints. Again, I know the English sources best and have them to hand, so here are the hymns of the Durham Hymnal which is from the Frankish New Hymnal promulgated in Carolingian times:

Hymn 98: Ymnus in Festiviate Omnnium Sanctorum[1]

Ad Vesperam
Festiva saeclis colitur     dies sanctorum omnium,

qui regnant in cęlestibus,     Iesu tecum feliciter.

 The feast day of All Saints is celebrated in all the world, the day of those who reign happily in the heavenly regions together with you, o Jesus.
Hos invocamus cernui     teque, redemptor omnium.

Illis tibique supplices     preces gementes fundimus.

 It is these we invoke with bowed heads and it is also you, redeemer of all. As suppliants we address prayers to them and to you, sighing the while.
Iesu, salvator saeculi,     redemptis ope subveni

&, pia genitrix     salutem posce miseris.

 Jesus, saviour of the world, assist and aid those whom you redeemed and you, loving mother of God, demand salvation for the wretched.
Caetus omnes angelici,     patriarchum cunei

& prophetarum merita     nobis pręcentur veniam.

 May all the hosts of angels and the troops of patriarchs and the prophets by virtue of their merits pray for forgiveness unto us.
Baptista Christi pręvius     & claviger æthereus

cum ceteris apostolis     nos salvant nexu criminis.

 May the Baptist who preceded Christ and the bearer of the keys to heaven release us from the bonds of sin in concert with the other apostles.
Chorus sacratus Martyrum     confessio sacerdotum

& virginalis castitas      nos a peccatis abluant.

 May the holy choir of the martyrs and the priests by virtue of their being confessors and the maidens by virtue of their chastity purify us of our transgressions.
Monachorum suffragia     omnesque cives celici

annuant vota supplicum     & vitę poscant premium.

 May the intercession of the monks and may all the citizens of heaven grant the requests of the suppliants and ask the reward of life for them.
Laus, honor, virtus, Gloria     deo patri & filio

simul cum sancto spiritu     in sempiterna sęcula.

Amen.

 Praise, honour, might and glory be to God, the Father and the Son together with the Holy Spirit in eternity.

This hymn is a perfect example of the Carolingian configuration of the Saints. Its point of departure is clearly the Te Deum; stanza 4 hits the main categories, then we expand from there (Note John the Baptist in 5). Stanza 6 has the brief “confessio sacerdotum” which Millful in her translation expands as “the priests by virtue of their being confessors”. That is reading a bit into it, but given the later evidence, I’ll present I don’t think it’s a stretch.

Hymn 99: Ymnus ad Nocturnam
Christe, redemptor omnium,     conserva tuo famulos

beatae semper virginis     placates sanctis precibus.

 Christ, redeemer of all men, preserve your servants, placated by the holy prayers of the perpetual virgin, blessed Mary.
Beata quoque agmina     caelestium spirituum,

preterita, pręsentia,     futura mala pellite.

 You also, blessed troops of celestial spirits, dispel evils past, present and to come.
Vates aeterni iudicis     apostolique domini,

suppliciter exposcimus     salvari vestries precibus.

 You prophets of the eternal judge and you apostles of the Lord, humbly we beg to be saved by means of your prayers.
Martyres dei incliti     confessors lucidi,

vestries orationibus     nos ferte in cęlestibus.

 You renowned martyrs of God and resplendent confessors, convey us into the heavenly regions by your appeals.
Chorus sanctarum virginum   monachorumque omnium,

simul cum sanctis omnibus     consortes Christi facite.

 You choir of holy virgins and all monks, let us be partakers in Christ together with all the saints.
Gentem auferte perfidum     credentium de finibus,

ut Christi laudes debitas     persolvamus alacriter.

 Move the heathen infidels away from the borders of the faithful so that we may gladly offer up the praise we owe to Christ.
Gloria patri ingenito     eiusque unigenito

una cum sancto spiritu     in sempiterna secula.

 Glory be to the Father who was not begotten, and to his only-begotten Son together with the Holy Ghost in eternity.

Here the confessors aren’t more explicitly identified, but we are once again given the standard framework which moves from apostles, to martyrs, to confessors to virgins/monks.

Moving to the two sermons I mentioned before, the Ps-Bede “Legimus in ecclesiasticis historiis” identifies the confessors quite explicitly as clergy: “Christi vero sacerdotibus atque doctoribus sive confessoribus huius festivitatem diei non ignotam esse credimus.” I don’t have the full text in front of me at the moment but Aelfric’s sermon uses “Legimus” as a starting place. Following his section on martyrs he moves to his section on confessors:

After the cessation of the cruel persecutions of kings and governors, holy priests of God prospered under peaceful conditions for God’s church. They, by true learning and holy example, pointed men of the nations to God’s joys. Their minds were pure and filled with chastity,  and they worshiped God almighty with clean hands at his altar glorifying the holy sacrament of Christ’s body and his blood. They also offered themselves as living sacrifices to God without wicked or sexually perverse works. They established God’s teaching among their underlings as a permanent deposit and inclined their minds with compulsion and prayers and great diligence to life’s way and not for any worldly thing scorned the proper fear of God. Though they did not experience the persecution of the sword yet through the merit of their lives they were not deprived of martyrdom because martyrdom is accomplished not in blood alone but also in abstinence from sins and in the application of God’s commands.

After these follow hermits and solitaries. . . . (CH I.36, ll. 89-104)

When these four items are put in parallel, they look like this:

Hymn 98 Hymn 99 “Legimus” CH I.36
Christ Christ Christ
Blessed Virgin Mary Blessed Virgin Mary
Angels Angels Angels Angels
Patriarchs Patriarchs Patriarchs
Prophets Prophets Prophets Prophets
John the Baptist John the Baptist John the Baptist
Key-bearing Peter and other Apostles Apostles Apostles (with mention of the power of the keys) Apostles (with mention of the power of the keys)
Martyrs Martyrs Martyrs Martyrs
Confessor priests Confessors Priests/Teachers/Confessors Priests
Hermits
Blessed Virgin Mary Blessed Virgin Mary
Virgins Virgins Virgins/Monks[2] Virgins
Monks Monks
Hermits

So—that’s why I feel entirely justified in conflating “prelates” with “confessors”.

[1] Both the text and the translation are taken from Millful, 358-360.

[2] Legimus conflates virgins and monks by stating that “an innumerable multitude of both sexes followed in her footsteps (innumerabilis utriusque sexus multitudo eius sequebatur uestigia)” (ll. 171-2).