Heiligenkreuz was founded in 1133 by the Margrave of Austria, later canonised as St Leopold, and alone among Cistercian monasteries has been in continuous existence from that day to this. It is also the largest religious community in Austria, and is stuffed full of healthy-looking young monks, something which you wouldn't naturally expect these days, I do believe.
The Abbey Church itself is one of the wonders of the German-speaking world, and is acknowledged as such. After a high and narrow romanesque nave with its transept, comes a most magnificent gothic Hallenchor, as wide as the transept itself, and filled with the most beautiful thirteenth-century stained glass.
On our way into the Church one of the afore-mentioned healthy-looking young monks, nicely turned out in the full white cistercian choir habit gave each of us a bilingual service booklet (Latin and German) together with a "Gruess Gott" and a beaming smile. With Tim and Pip, and Tim's mother Elaine, I tottered rather precariously (helped however by my new walking stick) to our pew near the front of the nave, and just in front of the baroque choir stalls inhabited (no pun intended) by the monks. Beyond them was the altar in the beautiful Hallenchor.
The priest in his green chasuble, assisted by two minsters in albs, arrived and stood before three low seats in front of (but not too close to) the altar which itself sits under a rather magnificent neo-gothic baldachino raised on a couple of shallow steps above the level of the sanctuary floor and the seats of the sacred ministers.
The readings, sermon, and intercessions were (quite properly) in German, but the rest of the mass was in Latin - I'm delighted to tell you. Most of the liturgy was chanted very beautifully indeed - the monks of Heiligenkreuz have made a best-selling CD, which I was actually given last Christmas. Their singing sounds even better in situ.
The service was celebrated quite simply. At the offertory the sacred ministers stood behind the altar, facing the people. This was the only time at which incense was used. The celebrant chanted the canon (in German they call it the Hochgebet - the Great Prayer) as he did the introductory rite (which included the the asperges) the collect, the prayer over the gifts, the post communion prayer, the blessing and the dismissal.
Everything was done with great gravity and serenity. There were no cheery welcomes, the monks themselves read the lessons and the intercessions, and the only music was the unaccompanied singing of the celebrant and the monks - assisted in the responses by the people in the pews.
There was however, something of an exception to the gravity and serenity of it all, and that was the celebrant's sermon. It lasted for about fifteen minutes and was based on the gospel of the day, which featured (if that is the right word) the giving of the Lord's Prayer to the disciples. I was tremendously impressed. My German is not good enough to follow most of what was said, but it was clearly a very able, and at times quite passionate exposition of the meaning and significance of the Our Father, preached without notes.
The Church was almost full, including, of course, the usual young people, one young couple with their baby, the latter mercifully mute.
Even now, some four days later, a sense of the holiness of the occasion and of the place itself remains quite vividly with me. It doesn't happen often enough.
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