Richard Becker, who describes himself as a “God-haunted lunatic,” has an entertaining rant against the use of missalettes at Mass.
Being a God-haunted lunatic myself, allow me to counter-rant in the same spirit.
In his piece, Becker poses a number of arguments against using missalettes at Mass. Let’s take a look at them:
1) The Argument from Van Morrison
Becker’s first argument compares going to Mass to going to a Van Morrison concert, which Becker indicates would be an incredibly thrilling experience for him.
I don’t know Van Morrison’s music myself, but fair enough. De gustibus non est disputandum.
Becker then asks whether, upon going to such a concert, he would Google the lyrics and read along with the stage performance. He says:
Noooo, of course not! I’d soak it all in – a total immersion, listening to and watching a great songwriter give voice to his own compositions, himself, in person! They’re songs I mostly know already by heart anyway, but even if I didn’t, why would I waste that exquisite privilege by reading along?
That’s what I think of when I go to church and see folks with their noses in the missalettes – those little booklets in the pew that contain all the readings and parts of the Mass. Worse still is when their eyes are glued to iPhones or other gadgets as they follow along on apps while the lector drones on pointlessly up front.
Allow me to draw your attention to some of Becker’s key words: “They’re songs I mostly know already by heart anyway.”
That’s a relevant difference. Most people at Mass don’t mostly know the scripture readings by heart anyway.
And far from diminishing the experience, for many members of the congregation, reading along enhances their experience of the readings.
That’s. Why. They. Do. It.
That’s also why people, including me, sometimes Google song lyrics. I don’t know if Becker ever does that, but I do. It’s one of the ways that I help avoid mondegreens.
So I don’t have a problem if people use missalettes at Mass—or, for that matter, their electronic equivalent.
On the other hand, if someone prefers not to use one, that’s fine, too.
And, if I may ask, why should Becker be dismayed by looking around at other people at Mass and seeing if and what they’re reading? On his theory, shouldn’t his attention be focused the lector, to drink in every detail of his proclamation of the readings?
At a Van Morrison concert, wouldn’t he be watching the stage performance and not the other members of the audience?
2) The Argument from College
Becker’s second argument also involves an analogy:
It’s like every college student’s worst nightmare: A professor that flashes one PowerPoint slide after another, reading them word for word. Then, as if to purposely add insult to injury, he’ll sometimes pass out lecture notes with the slides already on them. Torture.
As a college student, I had far worse nightmares than that, but I’ll acknowledge that I’d be annoyed if a professor did nothing more than read slides for 60 or 90 minutes.
That’s not what we’re talking about here.
The readings are short, and there are no more than three, max.
It’s more like when you are in a lecture and the professor stops to read an important passage word-for-word.
When that happens, students often turn to it in their textbooks and read it along with him, and they’re unlikely to mind if he reads three short passages from slides during the course of an overall lecture. (I’d also love it for the professor to pass out his own lecture notes!)
3) The Argument from the GIRM
Becker then mounts an argument based on the General Instruction of the Roman Missal or GIRM:
“The readings from the Word of God are to be listened to reverently by everyone,” the General Instruction explains, “for they are an element of the greatest importance in the Liturgy.” Catch that? Listened to, not scanned, not perused. In the liturgy, the Word of God is meant to be uttered and received.
This argument is of particular interest to me, as the Church’s liturgical law is a subject I happen to know something about.
Unfortunately, the argument does not work because it places too much emphasis on the phrased “listened to,” as if it excludes simultaneous reading.
It doesn’t.
Consider this parallel, also from the GIRM:
The Christian faithful who come together as one in expectation of the Lord’s coming are instructed by the Apostle Paul to sing together Psalms, hymns, and spiritual canticles (cf. Col 3: 16) [GIRM 39].
This does not mean that we shouldn’t simultaneously read the lyrics of the hymns we sing at Mass. It would be overtaxing the text to say that hymns should be sung, “not scanned, not perused.”
Or consider what the GIRM says about the priest saying the Collect (the opening prayer at Mass, which varies from day to day):
Next the Priest calls upon the people to pray and everybody, together with the Priest, observes a brief silence so that they may become aware of being in God’s presence and may call to mind their intentions. Then the Priest pronounces the prayer usually called the “Collect” and through which the character of the celebration finds expression [GIRM 54].
Catch that? The priest is to “pronounce” the Collect. It doesn’t say he should simultaneously read it, scan it, or peruse it. There’s nothing here about him reading from a written text.
4) The Alter Christus Argument
Becker then says:
Here’s more from the General Instruction: “When the Sacred Scriptures are read in the Church, God himself speaks to his people, and Christ, present in his word, proclaims the Gospel.”
The lector thus becomes another alter Christus, parallel to the priest who will confect the Eucharist and give us Jesus to eat. Dei Verbum makes this parallel quite explicit by insisting that in the Mass, the Church “unceasingly receives and offers to the faithful the bread of life from the table both of God’s word and of Christ’s body.”
So the lector’s job really is a vital one, but we treat it as if it were purely functional – a task that is required by the rubrics, yet largely irrelevant since we have the text so readily available, usually right there in the pew. “A reading from the First Letter of…,” the lector begins, which ought to put us on the edge of our seats. It’s Christ himself, after all, announcing his Word – the Logos, his very divine Self, enunciated for us, for me!
And yet, what’s our typical response? “Ho-hum (*yawn*), maybe I’ll grab the missalette and read along.”
I’d be rather cautious in saying that the lector “becomes another alter Christus, parallel to the priest.” I’m not familiar with this language being used in Church documents.
While there may be an element of truth here, if pressed to far, this analogy could flatten the sense in which the priest is uniquely an alter Christus.
Nevertheless, lectors—like all ministers at Mass—have an important role, though I question the characterization of people’s typical response as a ho-hum one.
My suspicion is that most people don’t read the missalette at all (though I could be wrong, because my attention is focused on the readings at this point).
To the extent that some of them do use the missalette, my interpretation would be that they are so engaged in the readings that they want to get as much out of them as possible and so they are following along in a way that they find helps them do this.
5) The Argument from Protestant Services
Becker argues:
When we’re at Mass, however, we should skip the missalette altogether lest we fall into what is essentially a Protestant approach to the Liturgy of the Word. In keeping with the Reformation precept that everyone should interpret the Bible for himself, many Protestants bring their own Bibles to church and read along as the Scriptures are read. It’s as if they’re checking up on the reader’s accuracy and precision – almost like rabbis peering over the shoulder of a young boy reading the Torah at his bar mitzvah. But if we’re reading, we’re not really listening, and the Liturgy of the Word becomes just another cerebral exercise instead of an incarnated, holistic epiphany.
“If we’re reading, we’re not really listening”? What? Sure we are! For many, that’s augmented listening.
I don’t know what Becker’s religious background is, but I used to be a Protestant, and I’m very familiar with the way many Protestant services are—essentially—Bible studies with hymns.
That’s not remotely what’s going on when Catholics read along using a missalette.
They’re not scrupulously checking up on the reader’s accuracy or precision or trying to test whatever interpretation against what the Scriptures actually say.
There is a difference between reading along so that you can get visual reinforcement of what you are hearing and taking a sola scriptura, “I’m going to interpret this for myself” approach.
6) The Argument from the Annunciation
Becker argues:
Sacred Scripture was meant to be received aurally in the liturgy, in the same way that classic iconography depicts the Blessed Mother receiving the Word of via a dove entering her ear. In fact, we call that blessed event the Annunciation because it was St. Gabriel’s “announcement” that itself realized the miracle of Jesus’ virginal conception. “Come and gaze upon this marvelous feat,” St. Athanasius attests, “the woman conceives through the hearing of her ears!” We’re called to do the same during the readings at Mass: To imitate Our Lady in receiving the Lord through hearing a proclamation, much as her cousin Elizabeth “received” an encounter with Jesus the moment she heard Mary’s greeting at the Visitation.
It’s true that Sacred Scripture is meant to be received aurally in the liturgy, but that does not mean it can’t also be receive visually.
This is a false either/or, whereas the Catholic approach is more frequently both/and.
That’s why there are missalettes in the Church in the first place, and why people have used daily missals at Mass for centuries: Because it helps some people to receive it both ways.
The appeal to the Annunciation does not disprove this. If it proved anything, it would prove too much. Why should the analogy be restricted to the liturgy? Why shouldn’t it be applied to every experience?
Bottom line: It’s hard to take exceptional events (like the Annunciation) and make universal rules from them.
A Role for Missalettes?
Becker does see some role for missalettes. He writes:
And the missalettes? Should we ditch them outright? I wouldn’t go that far, for there are circumstances when they do come in handy – and are even necessary. For instance, those who are hearing impaired have to rely on missalettes when there are no sign language interpreters or amplification devices available. Plus, let’s face it, sometimes it’s not easy to understand certain lectors, even if you want to.
I’m glad that Becker acknowledges that there is a legitimate role for missalettes, though I wouldn’t restrict it to uncommon cases like people who need a sign-language interpreter or when a lector is so bad at his job that he can’t be understood (in which case, he shouldn’t be lectoring; one of the requirements for the job is being able to read well in public).
The fact is that a lot of people find their experience of the readings augmented if they read along, and if this will help them more deeply assimilate God’s word, I say, more power to them! Read away!
On the other hand, if someone feels he’ll get more out of the readings simply by listening, more power to him, too!
It is more important that the people have a deeper experience of God’s word in the liturgy. How this happens is a secondary matter.
The fact that the Church has received the practice of the laity using missalettes or daily missals in Mass conveys an implicit blessing of the practice.
The fact that the Church has not mandated their use implies a blessing on the practice of simply listening as well.
De Gustibus Non Est Disputandum
Some years ago, I had a realization: It was very easy for me to read my personal preferences onto Catholic practice.
If I didn’t find something helpful to me, or otherwise to my taste, I wanted to suppose that it was somehow contrary to Catholic practice, or at least to the way Catholics should practice their faith.
I realized that I shouldn’t do this. As St. Paul wrote eloquently in 1 Corinthians 12-14, God did not make all Christians the same. The Body is not all one part. We all have different gifts, inclinations, and tastes.
I concluded from this that I need to respect the differences that God willed his people to have, and I should not insist that everyone have my own preferences.
If the Church permits something, that should be enough for me, and I shouldn’t look down my nose at those whose preferences are different than mine.
Subsequently, I have tried to take this principle to heart and internalize it. When I am tempted to go beyond what the Church requires, I try to stop and ponder: Is this really something that the Church has a rule about? Or am I in danger of imposing a pious little legalism of my own?
If I conclude it’s the latter, I resolve to mind my own business, to practice my faith in a way that I find helps me, and to respect those with other preferences.
After all, I should rejoice that they are practicing their faith and trying to grow closer to God, even if their way of doing that is different than mine.
Implications for the Lector?
I’d like to close with a note of encouragement for lectors who may be chagrined at seeing people use missalettes or daily missals. In commenting on how some lectors are difficult to understand, Becker writes:
I know for myself that if I’m up front reading, and I see folks reaching for their missalettes, I automatically assume that I’m doing a lousy job – that my “proclamation” is not “audible and intelligible” as the Catechism says it should be.
Still, I probably shouldn’t be so hard on myself, because I know that many of us grab the missalette and open it up out of habit, regardless of how good the lector is.
I agree that Becker is being too hard on himself. I’d encourage him to take a positive and charitable view if he happens to see people using missalettes when he reads.
It isn’t that he’s doing a bad job. It’s that they want to get even more out of the readings, and this is a way that they have determined they can do that.
Good for them!
And good for Becker for his service to the Church as a lector!
We have a priest that demands we put down our missals. He’s done this for 20+ years. Makes me so angry…not everyone is an auditory listener. Some people actually have to read along to process the information. I am one of those people. Out of respect for that priest, I don’t read along when he is speaking, but so far I haven’t notices any special gift being given to me from above that enables me to understand the words. Lol… Luckily, I don’t encounter that priest very often. Ò
Some people have learning disabilities and can’t follow without the text.
Some priests and lectors have a habit of changing the words in the readings.
Yeah, that’s another issue.
In our parish we NEED a missal! We do not have official lectors and some of the people who volunteer to read when their liturgy group is on duty cannot pronounce some of the common English words and have no clue as to their meaning…..Grrrr…..So we need to follow the written words! While we appreciate their willingness to serve, it would be good if their enthusiasm would be channeled into other tasks!
I’m with you Jimmy all the way. At my parish they announce the number of the reading to encourage you to read along. I myself need to read along to help me focus on what’s being said. It’s how I get the most out of the word.
This is a somewhat complicated issue. Historically, only the wealth could afford missals (when they became available – before the printing press, missals were almost the exclusive property of abbeys and larger Churches). As prices came down missals slowly filtered into the hands of the laity. During these periods, only the well-educated understood Latin enough to understand the readings de novo while they were being read at Mass and most people in the pews didn’t understand them, at all. In the early part of the twentieth-century, a movement began in certain places like Boston and Philadelphia to put missals in the hands of every pew-sitter, so they could understand the Latin when it was proclaimed without waiting for a translation (sometimes) during the homily. The movement was quite successful and many pre-Vatican II missals still exist (indeed, they are being reprinted, today, due to the flourishing of the Traditional Latin Mass).
After Vatican II, paradoxically, the practice of printing missals continued, even though the Mass was in the vernacular and, theoretically, easily understood (that was the purpose of the vernacular, after all). The newer missals, however, were not translation missals, but recording missals, that simply copied the material from the Lectionary and the Roman Missal used by the priest. In a perfect world, one would not need them, but in practice, they can be handy. In a perfect world, one should pre-read the Mass readings before going to Mass and ponder them, so that when they are heard at Mass they are already familiar and one can situate oneself within the material as it is heard. In practice, in an increasingly busy world, few people have the time to pre-read the Mass readings nor have they the time to ponder them. That is a shame, but these are the facts on the ground.
Acoustically, I have found a difference and difficulty in decoding spoken Latin from the vernacular in acoustically live churches because of the heavily voweled nature of Latin compared to many modern non-Romantic languages and, thus, a missal can compensate for that. Most post-Vatican II churches are heavily microphoned, so decoding is a much smaller issue.
In the end, I am glad that missalettes are provided (especially if the priest, as Bill912 points out, is want to change the texts), but as one becomes more familiar with the Mass, their use should be only occasional, especially for the Ordinary parts of the Mass.
Oh, and a counterargument for Rick Becker is that the Divine Office (Liturgy of the Hours) is never said from memory, but always read (except in cases of true impossibility) and they are the second prong of the Church’s liturgical worship. I guess the difference between the Mass and the LoH is that most people are expected to sing, Happy Birthday, from memory, but not Aaron Copeland’s, Old American Songs.
The Chicken
Although I had never thought of it this way, I have to agree with Jimmy Akin that Protestant services are Bible studies with hymns! I am a former Protestant. The pastor at a Baptist church I attended years ago encouraged parishioners when he was doing his teaching (sermon) to read along in their Bibles, listen to what was said, and to take notes – either in their Bibles, on the worship sheet or in a notebook. He believed that by doing these three things we would retain much more.
Also at that time, the King James Bible was used almost exclusively in that church. The difficulty for many (maybe most) people was the archaic language. Our pastor was diligent to tell give modern translations from the Greek of the archaic words or phrases. I always made corrections right in my Bible so that whenever I returned to those passages I would have a better understanding.
I agree with The Masked Chicken that reading and pondering the readings from the Mass beforehand yields much fruit.
As someone who is hearing impaired but can read lips somewhat, I find my Missal’s invaluable. Sometimes, I just can’t see what is being said well enough to understand. At weekday Mass during the recessional a prayer is said that is not in the Missal and I haven’t a clue and too ashamed to ask. If I ever do find out will I have a copy of it in my Missal? You betcha!
Our priest encourages the people in the pews to read the the Sunday readings before we arrive at church. I have done this for years and enjoy hearing the Word proclaimed.
My husband has difficult hearing some of the readings and so he reads his missal. I usually read mine prior to Mass. I must say that I am a lector and we have some very good lectors, we also have some that make it totally impossible to understand what they are reading. If the Church didn’t want us to read the missal why are they furnished by most parishes?
I’ve read an early 1900’s American laywoman’s book complaining about various stuff that she thought was bad manners or bad Catholicism. Oh my gosh, did she hate missals. How dare people read along in their missals.
She also hated a lot of the stuff people complain about today, so obviously Vatican II didn’t cause all the problems of the American church… albeit people don’t duck out for a smoke or a chew these days, which she also hated. I’ll see if I can find the title….
I am a Lector and even when I am not lectoring I try to read the readings before mass along with my pre-teen sons and we discuss them. However, I still use a missal. I know my limitations and that things can distract me, whether it’s a crying child or a person talking when they shouldn’t. This keeps helps me to not get frustrated so I stay focused on the “Word of the Lord” rather than on others. For me, I prefer to use as many senses as possible in order to absorb the readings. Plus, I have found that depending what is going on my my life, even if I’ve read a reading beforehand or even proclaimed it many times over the years, something new may leap out at me and I might glance back at the word or words again. Also, we don’t know what is going on in other people’s lives, that maybe they’re struggling with something that might make it hard to focus. I recently had a tragic death in the family and mass is the one place the emotions that I may have been holding in come to the surface, in the presence of our Lord. This can make it hard for me to stay focused. I think the problem is assuming that everyone thinks and receives information in exactly the same way or are experiencing life the same as we are and so we try to project our judgements or thoughts onto others when we don’t know what is in their hearts. Thanks be to God we are all different. Also, since I have a daily missal I also share with my sons the prayers that the priest is saying quietly and that may be sung over. I myself have found that I have gained so much more by reading those prayers and to enter into the mass more fully.
Well, I found one or two of the books I was thinking of, but I couldn’t find the one I was really looking for.
Anyway, there were a fair number of people at the turn of the last century pushing everybody to bring their prayerbook (most people didn’t have hand missals yet) and/or Rosary to Mass, because if you were just kneeling there, they were pretty sure you were letting distracted thoughts pass through your mind instead of prayers and Mass.
OTOH, it was supposed to be very bad to glance at your prayerbook during the sermon, or during the time after receiving Communion (if you did) until the end of Mass. (Which would be a surprise to a lot of the makers of Catholic missals and prayerbooks throughout time, since they very often featured a prayer after Communion. But apparently the US idea at the time was that you prayed a prayer after Communion as a thanksgiving prayer after Mass was over.)
The books I was looking at were Little Gems of Catholic Wisdom (1897), an anthology from various US Catholic writers and publications, The People of the Parish by Lelia Hardin Bugg, and The Correct Thing by Lelia Hardin Bugg.
(In the last couple years, Colleen Hammond apparently brought out an annotated/updated edition of The Correct Thing, which is an interesting thing to do.)
I try to get all the readings read before Sunday Mass begins. Then, I will usually pick up the missal to follow along with the first two readings by the lector. My practice is never to do the same with the Gospel reading. Why? Because during my school years, it was pounded into me that “fides ex auditu” was a dictum I should respect.
The missalette can, under certain particular circumstances, be a real aid, but it is more often an obstacle, and I say this as one who never used one, then got more serious about mass and used them for a time, and then realized I was actually still not listening to the readings. In fact most people can not listen with the ears and read with the eyes at the same time for an extended period. Our brain can’t really fully process two distinct linguistic inputs at the same time (especially while trying to achieve deeper understanding or reflection), plus you can’t ever read at the same rate as is being read aloud for more than a few lines (most of us read several times faster silently, if you notice those with the missallettes usually stop reading well before the proclamation is finished).
For those capable of understanding by hearing it is clearly the better choice to listen. For those impeded from this by language, hearing, acoustics, cognition, learning disability, or other issues, such that they will really and truthfully be more engaged with the mass by reading than by listening, I say use a missal, most certainly read along. Better to have actual and active participation via the mediated form of reading the missal than no participation at all, but do be aware that reading the missal does add an extra layer of indirectness between yourself and the liturgical action. Be discerning about your choice.
Don’t be like I was, and many others I know have been, and just read the missal thinking it is the pious thing to do. It may be, or it may well not be, it isn’t a matter of taste or preference, it is a matter of what brings you to a greater level of participation in the liturgy (and critiquing or criticizing the readers is not a form of actual participation!).
Oh, and to The Masked Chicken:
You aren’t quite right about the Divine Office, at least traditionally. Remember, even in a monastery books were rare in ancient days. Thus the psalms were largely memorized by the older monks and sung from memory (failing eyes played a part), and not all monks were entirely literate, either. In one abbey that I know in America, there is a painting by a German monk, in it you can clearly identify the painter as the one monk with his book closed during the office. The German monk was scandalized that American monks had to use their books to sing the psalms, in Germany the monks assumed that you should learn to sing all the psalms in Latin from memory, but this idea amazed the Americans. It is quite possible to join in the Liturgy of the Hours without any book at all, it is far from ideal, but you can actively listen, join in the invariable parts, repeat the antiphons, etc., I have done this while on a very long road trip with others and we needed to pray one of the hours but could not stop, it was the best form of participation available in that moment, diminished though it was for the driver.
Thank you for taking the time to sift through that, Jimmy.
I personally have encountered two parishes where the priests did not want the congregation to read along during Mass. In the first. the priest took the hard line that we were to L I S T E N. That’s fine if one can hear and/or concentrate above the distractions of squirmy children and adults, young girls (re)styling their hair and chatting, toddlers complaining or commenting in their own precious ways, babies playing with toys (rattles and blocks in church … really??) doors closing/slamming, ushers roaming about and talking …
In the other parish the new pastor just didn’t want to spend much money on missalettes. The number of books that he did authorize for purchase were kept in a wheeled industrial-style bookcase in the vestibule. Each parishioner who desired to read along had the responsibility of picking up their missalette on the way in and then returning it to the shelf on the way out. Emphasis was made early on that you had darned well better put that book back that you really didn’t need in the first place, you troublemaker you. :-/
I am a speech-language pathologist and thought I would just add that If comprehension is at all important engaging both auditory and visual modalities is a no brainer. This sort of thing is foundational to effective communication.
For me, it’s a simple matter of being ADD: if I can read the words of the whole mass and the readings, I actually hear them. Otherwise, I’ll quite happily check out the people around me, think about what I’m making for supper, etc. Self-proclaimed liturgist-types irritate me when they impose their pet ideas on us, (such as only “listening” to the readings), without any regard for sense or reason. “What’s the difference between a terrorist and a liturgist? You can negotiate with a terrorist.”
Some people process information better visually than auditorially. Even as adults, the distinctions “visual learners” or “auditory learners” still apply. This is just how some people’s brains work. For people who process information better auditorially, then, sure, using a missalette may not be necessary. For people who process information better visually, however, having a missalette handy to visually provide the words from Scripture as it is read would definitely be necessary. Some people’s auditory processing difficulties may even be such to where it impacts their reading comprehension skills. In such cases, the missalette would be necessary for them to go back and reread a verse or two whose meaning they did not initially catch. However, if their auditory processing difficulties are at such a level, they would never to able to comprehend the meaning of God’s word were it only provided auditorially to them, without the missalette as a companion to provide the information visually. I don’t think the author intended such, but some would say that an approach which discounted the use of missalettes would be insensitive to people with auditory processing difficulties.
Dear Not at all Important,
You wrote:
“You aren’t quite right about the Divine Office, at least traditionally. Remember, even in a monastery books were rare in ancient days. Thus the psalms were largely memorized by the older monks and sung from memory (failing eyes played a part), and not all monks were entirely literate, either.”
I wrote:
“Historically, only the wealth could afford missals (when they became available – before the printing press, missals were almost the exclusive property of abbeys and larger Churches).”
and
“Oh, and a counterargument for Rick Becker is that the Divine Office (Liturgy of the Hours) is never said from memory, but always read (except in cases of true impossibility) and they are the second prong of the Church’s liturgical worship.”
Not being able to read is an impossibility, so saying the psalms from memory is included in that, however, my first comment was concerning the Medieval Mass and is true. My second comment concerned modern practice of the Divine Office (hence, the use of Liturgy of the Hours in parentheses). I, also, stand by what I said.
The Code of Canon Law says (Can. 276 §2 no. 3):
“3/ priests and deacons aspiring to the presbyterate are obliged to carry out the liturgy of the hours daily according to the proper and approved liturgical books; permanent deacons, however, are to carry out the same to the extent defined by the conference of bishops;”
The 1917 Code says (Can. 135):
“Can 135. Clerici, in maioribus ordinibus constituti, exceptis iis de quibus in can. 213, 214, tenentur obligatione quotidie horas canonicas integre recitandi secundum proprios et probatos liturgicos libros.”
Canon 135. Clerics, for larger orders , except for those mentioned in can . 213, 214, they are bound by the obligation of reciting daily the whole of the canonical hours , according to its proper and approved liturgical books .
It references reciting according to the liturgical books. Reciting from memory stems from a situation of necessity, rather than normalcy.
Thus, we are both right, but we are talking about two different things. I was talking about who had missals in my first quote and was only referencing the modern Divine Office in my second. I did not mean to imply that the Office was recited from books by everyone in Medieval times, because, typically, abbeys and monasteries only had one copy and fifty men or more could not crowd around it. These men were taught the psalms and, as you mentioned, recited them from memory. The same was true of chant, although the leader did reference the part books so as to lead the singing (he indicated both tempo and the rising and falling of notes by the movements of his hand).
Sorry, for the confusion.
The Chicken
I do like your approach Mr Akin, you have everybody talking and you have an opened mind and I thank you for that! Personally I prefer not to use the missalette. I read the readings prior to mass to help me prepare myself for the message that our Priest will be giving us.
I don’t usually use the missa letter, but as I get older I have difficulty hearing the reading especially at some timbres or pitches of the proclamation. It is very distracting trying my hardest to catch every word and reading along could reduce that distraction.
I believe that it is up to the individual to do according to their preference. I gave my reasons for using a missal earlier. However, I couldn’t help but notice how many who are against using the missal mention about watching others with missals and make assumptions about why. Is this truly listening to the word or are we being distracted by things other than focusing on God? Again, this is precisely why I use a missal because I know that I can be easily distracted. I also want to add that by bringing a children’s missal for my sons when they were small, that they were better able to participate in the mass and had many people comment that they didn’t realize young children could be so engaged in a “non-children’s” mass.