Wednesday, July 06, 2022

An Essential Resource for Restorationists: Detailed Charts Comparing Pre-’55, ’55, and ’62 Mass and Office

In the slow but steady work of restoring the Roman liturgical tradition, it seems that we are never quite fully equipped with all the resources we might wish to have at any given moment. There is work being done today, for instance, that would have been mightily helpful to have decades ago. At the moment there is a burning need for reprints of the pre-55 breviary (both Roman and Monastic) and of the pre-55 altar missal. But things get done when they get done, and all in good time.

The magnificent resources I am posting today at the end of this short article are examples of just such a precious boon, which, once one holds them in one’s hands, will prompt wonder at how it was ever possible that they did not exist before. I speak of the following detailed comparative charts, prepared by expert calendarist and rubrician Paul Cavendish (of St. Lawrence Press fame), and now made available via NLM. Spread the knowledge of them far and wide.

Archdale King has a snippet about the desired/planned changes discussed at Lugano in 1953 (see image below) which he describes as “revolutionary.” The idea that the post-Conciliar changes to the Roman rite (whose solid outline certainly comes from Lugano) just came out of thin air and were all the fault of Vatican II, or Paul VI, or both, is simply impossible to sustain from a closer look of the patterns indicated on Cavendish’s charts.

Here, in Appendix A of H.A. Reinhold’s 1960 book Bringing the Mass to the People, is a summary of the proposals coming out of Maria Laach (1951), Ste Odile (1952), and Lugano (1953). They read as a veritable blueprint of the Novus Ordo.

 
Cum nostra hac aetate and Maxima redemptionis nostrae mysteria, both of 1955, were of course the tipping point, though the 1951 and 1952 “Easter Vigil” permissions presaged something big. There was lesser tinkering too, such as the editio VI post typicam of the Missal in 1953 which anticipated some of the 1962MR changes, such as short conclusions. Bugnini wrote a very useful article in Ephemerides Liturgicae about that.

In any case, the charts should be fairly self-explanatory, and repay close study.

PDF of “Outline of Changes to the Roman Missal between 1955 and 1962”


Tuesday, July 05, 2022

The Theology of Legoland

How can a fairground with a McDisney aesthetic and made of plastic bricks be so popular?

On a trip to England a few years ago, I visited a number of attractions for children in or around London. Two of them were the modern style of themed parks, Legoland and Kidzania, which have a range of highly interactive activities and rides that are free once you pay the entrance fee. They seem to be modeled on Disneyland in this regard.

We also went to the more conventional London Museum of Water and Steam, which is in the old water pumping station on the banks of the Thames, at Kew, built in 1820. This has the 19th-century pumps and engines on display, including a miniature steam train looking not unlike Thomas the Tank Engine. It is made interesting for children with some interactive explanations of what they are seeing.

Finally we went to Regent’s Park Zoo, which doesn’t really need to do very much to please most kids and parents other than show us the animals, but, perhaps in order to keep the eco-warriors at bay, it has had to reinvent itself as an environmentalist educational park (a marketing veneer, in my opinion, that can be ignored if eco-politics doesn’t interest you).

First, here are thoughts on the most popular of these attractions by far, Legoland. I was struck by just how exciting and entertaining these places are for kids aged 5 - 10. Legoland is a large permanent open-air fairground on a hill that overlooks Windsor castle, and so presumably the Queen can see it from her bedroom window if she cares to look in that direction. It is so popular that it has a hotel onsite, made out of real bricks...I think. Pretty much everything else in the place is made out of Lego. The general idea seems to be that there is a range of fairground rides - a ghost train, a rollercoaster, a merry-go-round, a boat on artificially created rapids, etc. - into which we are all strapped for safety, to which some themes from popular culture are applied. These themes are chosen to tap into whatever is running high in children’s popular culture at the time, so that might be the latest Disney hit or anything to do with pirates, princesses or fairy tales. Then they make a string of giant Lego models on that theme, perhaps have some of them waving their arms mechanically, and open the doors for business. And boy, does this work as a business model. Thousands and thousands attend.
This shows the power of anything that stimulates the imagination. These children are transported in their imaginations and they love it. The fact that the imaginary world is so obviously recreated by images made out of plastic bricks does not put them off; rather, it seems to attract them even more. They are thrilled by the Lego sculptures and, it seems to me, by the way, it stimulates their natural facility for seeing prototypes when presented with images. To my mind, the fact that Legoland stimulates this so powerfully is the attraction. It’s not just the themes, it’s the fact that there are images of the themes! This is the way of thinking that St Thomas describes in his 4th ‘proof’ of God and which he says is the most powerful way of evangelizing of all his proofs.
As I describe in a previous blog post, 4th-Way evangelization is a method underutilized by Christians today. The Lego company understood the power of this, even if Christians today haven’t, and have made a spectacular business success out of it. (So striking is Lego’s skill at doing this that one wonders if some secret Thomist has finally stumbled upon a commercial application for all those years studying the Summa and medieval philosophy. About time!) Christians should learn to tap into the same power. We could create something, perhaps, that without necessarily being explicitly Christian taps into the themes of Salvation History which are hardwired into us. The McDisneyland aesthetic of the Legoland is not great, but this is not a necessary component of what is on offer - it just says to me that there is a place for something even more powerful if we wanted to provide it. Whoever does this successfully will corner the market!

We do not need to compete with Legoland if we don’t want to (I don’t see that it is doing anything bad). They are so good at what they do, we might choose instead to observe how they tap into this natural facility in mankind and then build on what they do in order to further the Faith. People whose imagination is stimulated powerfully will respond even more powerfully to more explicitly Christian themes if presented well in a Christian context, such as the liturgy.

Kidzania is an indoor facility in West London which uses a similar psychological device to draw people in. Rather than transporting us to imaginary worlds for pure entertainment (with perhaps some incidental moral message) as Legoland does, Kidzania presents the world of adult work to children as an exciting place to which they can aspire. They can become for about twenty minutes at a time, airline pilots, aircrew, policemen, window cleaners, cooks, firemen, paramedics in an ambulance. Typically, an instructor firefighter welcomes them to the activity classroom. The door is shut and parents are excluded. They can’t hear what is said so are trusting that what they are told is good - we watch them through a glass screen. The children put on firemen’s hats and in conjunction with a video are told about this profession. Then they are told that there is an emergency to attend to. They are ushered into something like a golf cart that is made to look like a fire engine. They go to the scene of the accident and douse the fire with hoses spouting real water. As a result of this ‘work’, they earn 12 Kidzania pound notes. The moral message is more apparent here than the Lego experience. The goal is to introduce the idea of work to them and make it seem worthwhile. Again, what is fascinating is how exciting they make this by using the children’s imaginations to connect them to the reality they portray.



The last two places - the Museum of Water and Steam, and London Zoo - were more of what you would expect and much more interesting to me. The beauty and grace-in-motion of the old pump engines and even the elegance of the pumphouse (made in harmonic proportions of course) caught my eye. Interestingly, it was the rides and the interactive models, that seemed to me to be incidental to the main attraction, that the children were most interested in.



The latter two attractions offered an experience of something which was not using imagery, but presenting us with directly with something real. The children were thrilled to be at both of these places too, and enjoyed what was on offer, whether it was a water pump, a steam engine, tropical butterflies, gorillas, giraffes or penguins. The tendency of the more culturally conservative, such as myself, would be to argue that the higher, nobler, experience for the children is that in which they relate to reality directly. But now I’m not so sure. As I have pointed out in the past, the stimulation of imagination and the ability to relate the image to the prototype is almost universally necessary for one to have faith in God. Moreover, for all the beauty of the animals, we will not see them as God’s creatures unless we have that capacity for awe and wonder, and the power of imagination, to connect image to prototype, and creature to Creator. So, in fact, London Zoo needs a Legoland if it is to avoid being a neo-pagan, eco-warrior homage to Nature, rather than an authentic glorification of the Creator.

Perhaps Legoland is onto something profound here!

The Legend of Simon Magus

Until the year 1881 [note], July 5th was celebrated on the general celendar of the Roman Rite as a day within the very ancient octave of Ss Peter and Paul. The breviary lessons for the second nocturn are taken from a sermon of St Maximus of Turin, a Church Father of the late 4th and early 5th, of whom very little is known. This sermon recounts a famous legend concerning the death of the Apostles as follows.

The Fall of Simon Magus, by Benozzo Gozzoli, 1461-62
“On this day, then, the blessed Apostles shed their blood; but let us look to the cause for which they suffered, namely, that among other miracles, they also by their prayers brought down the famous magician Simon in a headlong fall from the empty air. For when this Simon said that he was Christ, and claimed that as the Son he could ascend to the Father by flying, and, having been lifted up by his magical arts, had at once begun to fly; then Peter knelt down and prayed the Lord, and by his holy prayer, overcome the magician’s flight. For his prayer ascended to the Lord before the flight did, and his just petition came there before (Simon’s) wicked presumption did; Peter, being set upon the earth, obtained what he asked for before Simon could come to the heavens whither he was headed. Then did Peter set him down like a prisoner from the lofty heights, and dashing him down with a steep fall onto a stone, broke his legs; and this, as a reproach of what he had done, so that he who had just tried to fly could suddenly no longer walk, and he that had taken on wings lost the use of his feet.” (Sermo 72 de natali Ss Apostolorum Petri et Pauli)

Church Fathers even earlier than St Maximus, such as St Justin Martyr and Arnobius, knew of the tradition that Simon Magus, who sought to buy the power of the Holy Spirit from St Peter (Acts 8), was in Rome at the same time as the Eternal City’s founding Apostles. The apocryphal Acts of St Peter tell the story that Simon sought to win the Emperor Nero to his teachings, which he would prove to be true by flying off a tower built in the Forum specifically for this purpose. As he was lifted up into the air by the agency of demons, Peter and Paul knelt on the street and prayed to God, whereon Simon was dropped, and soon after died of his injuries.

In the unintentionally hilarious 1954 historical epic The Silver Chalice, Simon Magus is played by the great Jack Palance, wearing what is perhaps the very worst super-hero costume ever made. (Palance, by the way, was born Volodymyr Palahniuk, to a Ukrainian Greek-Catholic father and Polish mother, in Pennsylvania mining country. This movie saw the debut of another world-famous actor, Paul Newman, whose performance earned him a Golden Globe nomination; despite this, Newman himself once called it “the worst motion picture produced during the 1950s.”)

The legend goes on to say that the enraged Nero arrested Peter and Paul and threw them into the Mamertine prison before their execution. There they converted the two wardens, Processus and Martinian, in whose acts it is told that St Peter caused a well to spring up from the ground so that he could baptize them. The site has been venerated as the place of the Apostles’ imprisonment for many centuries, and pilgrims can still visit it to this day; a plaque near the door lists the famous Roman prisoners, such as King Jugurtha of Numidia, who were killed there, the Saints who suffered and died within its walls, and the later Saints who have come to venerate the site.

On the opposite end of the Via Sacra, the principal street of the Roman Forum, Pope St Paul I (757-67) built an oratory dedicated to Peter and Paul, nicknamed ‘ubi cecidit magus – where the magician fell.’ This oratory contained as its principal relic the stone upon which St Peter knelt to pray for the defeat of Simon Magus and the vindication of the Christian faith. It was later demolished, but the stone itself is preserved in the nearby church of Santa Maria Nuova.

Photo by JP Sonnen. The Italian inscription above says “On these rocks St Peter set his knees when the demons carried Simon Magus through the air.”
[note] In October of 1880, Pope Leo XIII added the feast of Ss Cyril and Methodius to the general calendar, and assigned their feast to July 5th. The day within the octave of the Apostles was chosen to express the hope for the reunion of the Orthodox Slavs, originally evangelized by Cyril and Methodius, with the See of Peter; this is also stated in the proper hymns of their Office, which were composed by the Pope himself. Their feast was celebrated on this day from 1881 to 1899. At the end of 1899, the feast of St Anthony Maria Zaccaria, founder of the Clerks Regular of St Paul (also known as the Barnabites, from the titular Saint of their mother church in Milan) was extended to the universal calendar, and placed on July 5th, the day of his death in 1539; Ss Cyril and Methodius were then moved to the 7th. In the post-Conciliar calendar, they were moved again, to the day of Cyril’s death, February 14th.

Monday, July 04, 2022

Interesting Saints on July 4th

In the Middle Ages, very few churches celebrated July 4th as a day within the octave of Ss Peter and Paul as Rome itself did. In most places, it was kept as a secondary feast of one of Western Christianity’s most popular Saints, Martin of Tours, commemorating the anniversary of both his ordination and the translation of his relics. The origin of this commemoration is narrated by the famous historian St Gregory of Tours, who succeeded to that see about two centuries after Martin did. The following excerpt from his book “On the Miracles of St Martin” was read at Matins of the feast in the breviary of Sarum.
The modern basilica of St Martin of Tours, built between 1886 and 1924 to replace a great medieval basilica which was destroyed during the Revolution. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by rene boulay, CC BY-SA 3.0.)
“In the 64th year after the passing of the most glorious lord Martin, the blessed Perpetuus obtained the dignity of the See of Tours… and decided to set the foundations of a church over (Martin’s) blessed body greater than that which has had been. … When the desired time came for the priest (i.e. bishop) to dedicate the church, and translate the holy body from where it had been buried, Perpetuus brought together to the feast day the nearby bishops, and no small multitude of the abbots are various clerics. And because he wanted to do this on July 1st, after they had kept a vigil through the night, in the morning, they took a hoe, and began to dig out the dirt which was over the sacred tomb. Once it was uncovered, they put their hands to it to move it, and the work of whole multitude could do nothing at all (by way of moving it) for the whole day.
(This happens again the next day, after which) of the clerics said, “You know that after these three days, was the beginning of his episcopacy, and perhaps he is admonishing us that it is on that day that he wishes us to move him.” Then giving themselves over to fasting and pray and continual silence day and night, they passed the three days … but on the fourth day, coming and putting their hands (on) it, they were completely unable to move the sarcophagus. Being all then thoroughly terrified, and ready to cover over the vessel which they had uncovered, there appeared a venerable old man with hair, and white like snow in his appearance, saying that he was an abbot, and he said to them, “How long will you be confused and (thus) delay? Do you not see the lord Martin standing there, and ready to help you if you put your hands to it? Then casting aside his cloak, he put his hand on the sarcophagus with the rest of the priests… and (thus) at last at the attempt of the old man, the sarcophagus was moved with the greatest ease, and brought to the place where it is now venerated by the Lord’s favour. And being set in its place as the bishop wished, when the Mass was said, they went to a banquet, and looking diligently for the old man, they did not find him anywhere. Nor was there any man who had seen him leave the church. I beieve that it was some angelic power, which proclaimed that it saw the blessed (Martin), and thereafter appeared no more.”
The tomb of St Martin in the crypt.
The Use of Sarum also kept feasts of the four other relic translations in July: St Thomas of Canterbury on the 7th, St Benedict on the 11th (this feast was kept in many other parts of Europe), St Swithin and Companions on the 16th, and St Osmund on the 17th. For this reason, a general feast of all relics was also instituted for the Sunday following July 7th.
In many parts of Germany, however, July 4th is the feast of St Ulrich. He was born in the Bavarian city of Augsburg in 890, and studied at the famous monastery of St Gallen in Switzerland; in 924, was appointed to succeed his own uncle as bishop of his native place. The Magyars, not yet converted to Christianity, frequently attacked the southern and eastern parts of the Holy Roman Empire, and shortly before his appointment had raided Augsburg and destroyed its cathedral. Ulrich built a temporary church to replace it, and devoted himself entirely to divine services, beginning with Matins in the early hours of the morning, and the caring for the people both spiritually and temporally. In 955, he successfully preserved the city from another Magyar assault, personally taking charge of the defences until an imperial army could relieve it. He died on July 4, 973, and has the distinction of being the first Saint canonized by the Pope through a formal process.
St Ulrich, ca. 1510, by the painter Leonard Beck (1480 ca. - 1542) a native of Augsburg. Ulrich is often show holding a fish, inference to a legend that he once was traveling, and forgot to eat his meal until it had gone past midnight of a fast day. On opening his container of provisions, he found that the meat had been miraculously turned into fish so he could eat it.  
In some parts of Eastern Europe, especially Bohemia, today is the feast of a Saint called Procopius, not to be confused with the 4th-century martyr of the same name noted in the Martyrology on July 8th. He was a married man who later became a hermit, and like so many truly holy hermits, attracted many disciples (thereby effectively ceasing to be a hermit). After his death in 1053, this community was organized into a Benedictine monastery that celebrated the liturgy in Church Slavonic. I have not been able to find a source to verify whether they were using it for the Roman Rite, as was done in some parts of Croatia even until modern times, or if they were of the Byzantine Rite, but in any case, the tradition ended at the end of the 11th century. Procopius was canonized in 1204 by Pope Innocent III, and has long been venerated as one of the patrons of the Kingdom of Bohemia.
St Procopius, together with St Vicent Ferrer, on one of the decorative pillars of the Charles Bridge in Prague. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by ZP, CC BY-SA 2.5
In the treasury of the cathedral of Reims in France there is kept a Gospel book written partly in the Cyrillic alphabet, and partly in the early Slavic script known as Glagolitic. The Glagolitic parts are pericopes that follow the tradition of the Roman Rite. The true origin of this manuscript is unknown, but it was long attributed to the hand of St Procopius. After being lost during the Hussite wars of the 15th century, it passed through various hands until it was acquired by a French cardinal and donated to Reims cathedral in 1574. By that time, the legend was current that St Jerome himself (who was in fact a native of the Balkan peninsula) has made the first translation of the Gospels into Church Slavonic, and this manuscript was believed to be his original of this (non-existent) translation. It was therefore incorporated into the coronation ritual of the French kings, which was traditionally held there. Unfortunately, the cover, which was covered with jewels and small relics, was destroyed during the Revolution.
A page of the Reims Gospel book, with a picture of St Jerome in an illustrated letter. Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons

Some Thoughts on America and Americanism

The fourth of July is, in most parts of the world, a day like any other. In the pre-55 Roman calendar, it would have been a day within the octave of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, with the Mass “Mihi autem.” Current Ordos usually say “feria.” On this day the United States of America celebrates a national holiday called Independence Day, for which, in the Novus Ordo, a perfectly ridiculous “proper Mass” has been cobbled together that reeks of Masonic “Manifest Destiny” patriotism (see here for the texts and my detailed critique). Traditional priests more modestly and more appropriately celebrate a votive Mass in honor of the country's patroness, the Immaculate Conception, or a votive Mass for Peace.

At this time of its history, the USA is — or at least is in continual danger of — devolving into violence and anarchy. Some would blame this on very recent social movements and educational failure; others would see it as rooted in longstanding philosophical errors and habits of life that take time to work out their consequences. The recent welcome overthrow of Roe v. Wade has stoked the fires of the culture wars still further. As a student of political history I find fascinating the genre of dreamy praise directed to the US government and its founding documents as practically the best the world has ever seen, and this, not on the lips of secularists or Protestants, from whom one might expect the message, but on the lips of important Catholic figures. Let’s begin with Cardinal Gibbons, who stated in a speech at the Catholic University of America on January 19, 1897:
If I had the privilege of modifying the Constitution of the United States, I would not expunge or alter a single paragraph, a single line, or a single word of that important instrument. The Constitution is admirably adapted to the growth and expansion of the Catholic religion, and the Catholic religion is admirably adapted to the genius of the Constitution. They fit together like two links in the same chain.
The same prelate returned to this theme twelve years later in the North American Review of March 1909: “American Catholics rejoice in our separation of Church and state, and I can conceive no combination of circumstances likely to arise which would make a union desirable for either Church or state.”

It seems to me exceedingly unlikely that the Leo XIII whose gigantic and impressive statue sits in the grand McMahon Hall of CUA would be able to approve of these sentiments. Indeed, he expressly taught the contrary in his encyclical Longinqua Oceani and in his letter Testem Benevolentiae directed, meaningfully, to Gibbon, not to mention a host of social encyclicals like Immortale Dei and Libertas Praestantissimum. (For an anthology of such texts, see A Reader in Catholic Social Teaching: From Syllabus Errorum to Deus Caritas Est.)
 
A statue (of Leo XIII) that I saw every week at CUA in grad school...
Another Americanist of distinction was Isaac Hecker (1819–1888), founder of the Paulist Fathers, who is quoted in Walter Elliott’s Life of Father Hecker as saying:

The form of government of the United States is preferable to Catholics above other forms. It is more favorable than others to the practice of those virtues which are the necessary conditions of the development of the religious life of man. This government leaves men a larger margin of liberty of action, and hence for cooperation with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, than any other government under the sun. With these popular institutions men enjoy greater liberty in working out their true destiny. The Catholic Church will therefore flourish all the more in this republican country in proportion as her representatives keep, in their civil life, to the lines of their republicanism. (p. 293)
And yet, even one so wedded to Vatican-II-style religious liberty and the separation of Church and State as John Courtney Murray had the perspicacity to see, and the honest to state, the real situation “on the ground” (this, in a lecture at Loyola University in Baltimore in 1940):
American culture, as it exists, is actually the quintessence of all that is decadent in the culture of the Western Christian world. It would seem to be erected on the triple denial that has corrupted Christian culture at its roots, the denial of metaphysical reality, the primacy of the spiritual over the material, of the social over the individual . . . . Its most striking characteristic is its profound materialism . . . . It has given citizens everything to live for and nothing to die for. And its achievement may be summed up thus: It has gained a continent and lost its own soul.
Such a blistering assessment brings to mind G. K. Chesterton’s quip in the New York Times of February 1, 1931: “There is nothing the matter with Americans except their ideals. The real American is all right; it is the ideal American who is all wrong.”

A last passage worth sharing on this fourth of July is written by a man of dual origin, Spanish and English, namely, the historian Henry Sire, whose wide-ranging book Phoenix from the Ashes does not neglect to make some critical remarks about the role America played in the dechristianization of the world and the decatholicizing of the Church:
Across the Atlantic, there was a new Protestant power, adding its strength to those of Europe, and here, too, the work of sapping Catholic societies was prominent. It had already been seen in the French Revolution, in which the American example was influential, and the process continued in the nineteenth century. The United States, like Britain, supported the revolt of Spanish America, and in 1867 they were directly responsible for the victory of an anti-clerical regime in Mexico.
          A less commonly noticed achievement was that of decatholicising the lands — the seaboards of the Gulf of Mexico and the Pacific — which the United States acquired by purchase or conquest between 1803 and 1848. For a contrast, we may look to the case of Quebec after its annexation by Britain; a policy of respecting the native institutions allowed Quebec to survive essentially as a traditional Catholic society. A different fate was that of the Spanish and French colonies that fell to republican expansion, as their institutions were overruled in favour of the self-evident truths of Thomas Jefferson. Yet it would be petty to find fault with the American Republic merely for what it did to Catholic societies. It also followed the career of territorial expansion led by its Protestant precursors, Holland and Britain. The empire that those powers built up in far-off lands was available to the Americans on their doorstep.
          It is not generally remarked that the United States is the only country in the modern world which in the recent past — specifically the years from 1811 to 1898 — has acquired its national territory by dispossessing the existing inhabitants and by launching wars of aggression against its neighbours; but that record has not hampered the United States from presenting itself as the world’s moral pastor in international affairs, so successfully has democracy been identified with virtue and innocence.
          Internally, the years after the Civil War became known for their corruption and political manipulation, and for the rise of the robber barons of large-scale capitalism, showing that the country’s domestic morality matched that in foreign relations. By that period, the United States was taking the place of Britain as the example of modernity. American society became the leader in advances against the older Christian ethos, a trend that became stronger in the twentieth century. The undermining of sexual morality included, amongst other signs, a growing fashion for divorce, encouraged by the strength of the feminist movement. A Protestant tradition that busied itself in imposing teetotalism and biblical literalism was engaged in looking the wrong way while these vices stole upon it. (pp. 133–34)
After that sobering passage, it does not seem quite right to say among ourselves in the USA, “Happy Independence Day!,” much less (in keeping with the faux new rite optional memorial) “Blessed Independence Day!” Rather, we might say, as indeed all Catholic citizens of any Western country at this time must say: Miserere nostri, Domine, quia peccavimus tibi.

Saturday, July 02, 2022

An 11th-Century Musical Miscellany

Here is another great discovery from the website of the Bibliothèque nationale de France, a musical collection produced for the abbey of St Martial in Limoges in the first quarter of the 11th century. (Département des Manuscrits, Latin 1121) Different parts of the manuscript was copied and illustrated by various hands; almost all of the illustrations are found within the first 42 folios (out of 247), and there are none after the 90th. It contains a wide variety of the classic medieval liturgical elaborations: tropes, proses, sequences, processional chants etc. While it was produced, Guido of Arezzo, who popularized the use of diastemic notation (i.e. written on a staff) was still alive, but his innovation did not take off everywhere at once, and so here we see the notes written adiastemically. I here include all of the illustrations, and have highlighted them by cropping the pages.
The abbey of St Martial was an extremely important center of musical production, and played an important role in the early development of polyphony; see this article from Wikipedia for more information: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Martial_school
A prose for Christmas, which begins with the words “Quem quaeritis in praesepio – Whom do ye seek in the manger”, a play on the words of the angel at the Lord’s tomb, “Whom do ye seek in the tomb?”

The verso of the same folio.
The feast of St Stephen
An eagle for St John the Evangelist
The Holy Innocents; as is common in medieval liturgical manuscripts, many of the illustrations have no relationship to the feast to which they are attached.

Saints Processus and Martinian

For many centuries before the feast of the Visitation was instituted, July 2nd was kept as the feast of the martyrs Ss Processus and Martinian, who remain as a commemoration. According to a legend current since the sixth century, they were the jailers in charge of keeping Ss Peter and Paul in the Mamertine prison in Rome during the reign of the Emperor Nero, and having been converted by the Apostles, allowed them to escape. For this, they were put to death after a long series of torments, through which they simply said over and over again, “Blessed be the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ, whom his blessed Apostles have preached!” Originally buried in a cemetery off the via Aurelia, their remains were transferred to the ancient basilica of St Peter by Pope Paschal I in the early ninth century. The north transept of the new basilica is named for them, where their relics are kept under the middle of the three altars.

The north transept of St Peter’s Basilica
The central altar is where this painting of their martyrdom, by the French painter Valentin de Boulogne (1629) was originally displayed; it is now replaced by a mosaic copy.


Since the windows of St Peter’s Basilica are so high up, the marble walls are never exposed to direct sunlight for any great length of time, and generally remain cooler than the air. In the summertime, when Italy is often very hot and humid, a great deal of moisture comes into the building and condenses on the cooler marble. In the middle of the 18th century, it was realized that the paintings over the altars were being destroyed because they had a slick of condensation over them for several months of the year; there were therefore all taken down and replaced by mosaics. The original is now in the Painting Gallery of the Vatican Museums.

Valentin was an unabashed plagiarist of Caravaggio, in terms of both style and subject. One of the latter’s more prestigious commissions was a series of three paintings of the life of St Matthew in the Contarelli Chapel of the church of San Luigi dei Francesi. The angel whom Valentin shows here bringing the palm of victory to the martyrs is essentially a cross between the two angels painted by Caravaggio, one inspiring St Matthew in the writing of the Gospel, and the other bringing him the palm of martyrdom.

Friday, July 01, 2022

Vespers of the Precious Blood

Although the feast of the Precious Blood is very new to the general Calendar, added in 1849 by Bl. Pius IX, the exegetical tradition behind some of its liturgical texts is very ancient indeed. Here I will focus on the antiphons sung with the Psalms of Vespers, four of which are taken from Isaiah chapter 63, and one from Apocalypse 19, both passages long associated with the Passion of Christ and the Redemption effected by it.

The high altar of the Jesuit church in Mindelheim, Germany, with the motif of Christ in the wine-press on the antependium. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Thomas Mirtsch)
Aña Who is this that * cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this one, that is comely in His apparel. Isa. 63, 1
Aña I that speak * justice, and am a defender unto saving. ibid.
Aña He was clothed * with a garment sprinkled with blood, and His name is called The Word of God. Apoc. 19, 13
Aña Wherefore then * is Thy apparel red, and thy garments as of them that tread in the wine-press? Isa. 63, 2
Aña I have trodden * the wine-press alone, and of the nations there was no man with Me. Isa. 63, 3

The passage from Isaiah is traditionally the first of two Old Testament readings on Spy Wednesday, when the station is held at St. Mary Major. In the middle of Holy Week, as the Church of Rome commemorates Christ’s Passion, and visits its principle sanctuary of the Mother of God, this Mass begins with a prophecy of the Incarnation, which took place in Mary’s sacred womb. The full reading is Isaiah 63, 1-7, preceded by a part of verse 62, 11.
Thus sayeth the Lord God: Tell the daughter of Sion: Behold thy Savior cometh: behold his reward is with him. 63, 1 Who is this that comes from Edom, with dyed garments from Bosra, this beautiful one in his robe, walking in the greatness of his strength? I, that speak justice, and am a defender to save. Why then is your apparel red, and your garments like theirs that tread in the winepress? I have trodden the winepress alone, and of the gentiles there is not a man with me: I have trampled on them in my indignation, and have trodden them down in my wrath, and their blood is sprinkled upon my garments, and I have stained all my apparel. etc.
The Fathers of the Church understood this passage as a prophecy of the Passion of Christ, starting in the West with Tertullian.
The prophetic Spirit contemplates the Lord as if He were already on His way to His passion, clad in His fleshly nature; and as He was to suffer therein, He represents the bleeding condition of His flesh under the metaphor of garments dyed in red, as if reddened in the treading and crushing process of the wine-press, from which the laborers descend reddened with the wine-juice, like men stained in blood. (Adv. Marcionem 4, 40 ad fin.)
This connection of these words with the Lord’s Passion is repeated in very similar terms by St. Cyprian (Ep. ad Caecilium 62), who always referred to Tertullian as “the Master”, despite his lapse into the Montanist heresy; and likewise, by Saints Cyril of Jerusalem (Catechesis 13, 27) and Gregory of Nazianzus (Oration 45, 25.)

The necessary premise of the Passion is, of course, the Incarnation, for Christ could not suffer without a human body. Indeed, ancient heretics who denied the Incarnation often did so in rejection of the idea that God Himself can suffer, which they held to be incompatible with the perfect and incorruptible nature of the divine. St. Ambrose was elected bishop of Milan in the year 374, after the see had been held by one such heretic, the Arian Auxentius, for twenty years. We therefore find him referring this same prophecy to the whole economy of salvation, culminating in the Ascension of Christ’s body into heaven, thus, in the treatise on the Mysteries (7, 36):
The angels, too, were in doubt when Christ arose; the powers of heaven were in doubt when they saw that flesh was ascending into heaven. Then they said: “Who is this King of glory?” And while some said “Lift up your gates, O princes, and be lifted up, you everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in.” In Isaiah, too, we find that the powers of heaven doubted and said: “Who is this that comes up from Edom, the redness of His garments is from Bosor, He who is glorious in white apparel?”
In the next generation, St Eucherius of Lyon (ca. 380-450) is even more explicit: “The garment of the Son of God is sometimes understood to be His flesh, which is assumed by the divinity; of which garment of the flesh Isaiah prophesying says, ‘Who is this etc.’ ” (Formulas of Spiritual Understanding, chapter 1).
The Risen Christ and the Mystical Winepress, by Marco dal Pino, often called Marco da Siena, 1525-1588 ca. Both of the figures of Christ in this painting show very markedly the influence of Michelangelo’s Last Judgment.
In his Commentary on the Prophet Isaiah (book 18) St Jerome explicitly connects this passage with St John’s vision in Apocalypse 19.
John also in the Apocalypse bears witness that he saw these things: “I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called faithful and true, and with justice doth he judge and fight. And his eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were many diadems, and he had a name written, which no man knoweth but himself. And he was clothed with a garment sprinkled with blood; and his name is called, the Word of God. And the armies that are in heaven followed him on white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. And out of his mouth proceedeth a sharp two edged sword; that with it he may strike the nations.” The Lord and Savior sat upon a red horse, taking on a human body; to whom it is said “Why are thy garments red?” and “Who is this that cometh from Edom, his garments bloodied from Bozrah?” St Jerome presumes his reader’s familiarity with the exegetic tradition that the “garment” and “bloodied vestment” in Isaiah 63 refer to the Incarnation. He does even need to finish the thought by pointing out that both passages refer to a “wine-press” as a symbol  of the instrument of Christ’s sufferings.
The Rider on the White Horse, Apocalypse 19, from the Bamberg Apocalypse, 1000-1020 A.D. The lower part shows the angel calling to the birds of prey in verse 17 of the same chapter.
Well before St Jerome, the great Biblical scholar Origen had also described this vision of St John as a prophecy of the Incarnation and the Passion.
Now, in John’s vision, the Word of God as He rides on the white horse is not naked: He is clothed with a garment sprinkled with blood, for the Word who was made flesh and therefore died is surrounded with marks of the fact that His blood was poured out upon the earth, when the soldier pierced His side. For of that passion, even should it be our lot some day to come to that highest and supreme contemplation of the Logos, we shall not lose all memory, nor shall we forget the truth that our admission (into heaven) was brought about by His sojourning in our body. (Commentary on the Gospel of John, Book II.4)

A Calendar Comparison for the Month of July: Byzantine, Tridentine, Montinian

On November 16, 2020, I published a piece at NLM entitled “The Sanctoral Killing Fields: On the Removal of Saints from the General Roman Calendar.” I noted, inter alia, the tremendous and often ruthless purging of saints from the calendar in the 1960s, including many saints who have been on it for as long as we have any records and saints universally beloved.

Toward the end of last July, I happened to notice a few parallels between the Roman Martyrology and the Byzantine liturgical calendar, and this prompted me to look more closely at the month of July as a whole. I then brought in the Novus Ordo calender, to see how it compared to both of these. The findings were interesting, confirming what most of us already know from experience.

The Byzantine calendar features 135 named saints or dominical feasts, and all are mandatory. The traditional Latin Mass calendar features 60 named saints or dominical feasts, and all are mandatory (unless a saint happens to fall on a Sunday; a sad legacy that should be undone, at least by way of a simple commemoration after the Sunday orations). The Novus Ordo calendar features 22 named saints, of which only 10 are mandatory.

I am certainly aware of the important differences between how the presence of a saint affects the Byzantine liturgy and how it affects the Western rites; in the former case it has little enough effect, in the latter a dramatic effect. For more on this topic, see my article "In Defense of Cluttered Calendars."

The details may be found in the two images below.

Thursday, June 30, 2022

We Don’t Need No Re-Education

In due time, we will post a round-up of articles about the Apostolic letter Desiderio desideravi on the sacred liturgy, as we did for Traditionis Custodes and the “dubia.” For the moment, however, I wish to offer only one very brief commentary of my own, mostly by agreeing with some other people.

Any imputation that critique of the post-Conciliar rite means rejection of the most recent ecumenical council is false. The letter says “I do not see how it is possible to say that one recognizes the validity of the Council ... and at the same time not accept the liturgical reform born out of Sacrosanctum Concilium...” As Phil Lawler rightly put it, this is simply a non-sequitur. And as my colleague Matthew Hazell rightly put it, there is a difference, and it is a very important one, between the Concilium and the Consilium. The post-Conciliar rite is a product of the latter and not of the former. It was not born out of Sacrosanctum Concilium, it was born as a rejection and repudiation of Sacrosanctum Concilium. Even the most cursory reading of that document makes it very clear that the post-Conciliar rite was created by going FAR beyond the Conciliar mandate, and in places, flatly contradicts the very letter of that mandate. Claims to the contrary are false. This is the reality of the situation, and with all due respect for the office of the papacy, the power of the keys which Christ gave to Peter is not the power to declare reality to be something other than what it is.

More simply, as this fellow also rightly put it

Corpus Christi 2022 Photopost (Part 2)

Our second post of your Corpus Christi liturgies really shows the splendor of this great feast as it is meant to be celebrated, with processions going to multiple churches, outdoor altars, and floral carpets laid out for the procession. As always, our thanks to everyone who took the time to share these with us. We also see a visit of His Eminence George Cardinal Pell to friends at Chavagne International College in France. 

We will definitely have at least one more post in this series, and there is always room for more photos, or to make another post, so there is still plenty of time to send yours in to photopost@newliturgicalmovement.org, always remembering to include the name and location of the church, and any other information you think important. We will be very glad to include photographs of any of the recent major feasts such as Sacred Heart, the Birth of John the Baptist, or the feast of Ss Peter and Paul. Keep up the good work of evangelizing through beauty!
St Eugène – Paris, France
Courtesy of our good friends of the Schola Sainte-Cécile. The procession made its way to the church of Saint-Roch, and ended at Notre-Dame-des-Victoires.

Upcoming Celebrations at Our Lady of Mt Carmel in NYC

The Pontifical Shrine of Our Lady of Mount Carmel in New York City will have the following major celebrations this month, including its patronal feast on July 16th, for which, as usual, the church is offering a particularly rich liturgical program. The shrine is located at 448 East 116th Street.
First Friday, July 1
Feast of the Most Precious Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ
10:00 am - 8:00 pm All Day Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament
7:00 pm Missa Cantata, 1962 Missal
First Saturday, July 2
Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary
9:00 a.m. Missa Cantata, 1962 Missal
138th Annual Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel
July 6 – July 14
7:30 pm - Novena Masses, Prayers & Benediction
Friday, July 15
5:30 pm - Vigil Mass, 1962 Missal
7:30 pm – Solemn 1st Vespers & Benediction of The Blessed Sacrament
9:00 pm – Candlelight Procession
11:00 pm – Holy Rosary & Litany of Loreto
Saturday, July 16
12:00 am – Solemn Midnight Mass, 1962 Missal
8:00 am - Spanish Mass
10:00 am - English Mass
11:00 am Grand Procession
3:00 pm – French/Creole Mass
6:00 pm – Sung Mass, 1962 Missal, followed by closing Eucharistic Benediction

Wednesday, June 29, 2022

The Feast of Ss Peter and Paul 2022

On this day, * Simon Peter ascended the gibbet of the cross, alleluia: on this day, he that beareth the keys of the kingdom of heaven passed rejoicing to Christ: on this day, Paul the Apostle, the light of the world, inclining his head, for the name of Christ was crowned with martyrdom, alleluia. (The antiphon at the Magnificat for Second Vespers of Ss Peter and Paul.)

Ss Peter and Paul, with Ss John the Evanglist and Zeno; the left panel of the polyptych of San Zeno by Andrea Mantegna, 1457-60.
Aña Hodie * Simon Petrus ascendit crucis patibulum, alleluia: hodie clavicularius regni gaudens migravit ad Christum: hodie Paulus Apostolus, lumen orbis terrae inclinato capite pro Christi nomine martyrio coronatus est, alleluia.


This antiphon is musically very similar to the antiphon for the Magnificat at 2nd Vespers of Pentecost. 
In the Roman Rite, the feast of St Peter and Paul was originally always the first feast of any of the Apostles to occur after Pentecost. The musical similarity between the two antiphons therefore signifies that Peter and his successors lead the Church in the long period from the descent of the Holy Ghost to the end of the world, a period symbolized by the season between Pentecost and Advent. (Since the 11th century, when the feast of St Barnabas was taken into the Roman liturgy from the Byzantine Rite, and kept on its Byzantine date, June 11th, it can occur between Pentecost and Peter and Paul. However, this doesn’t really disturb this ancient arrangement, since Barnabas was not one of the Twelve.)
A polyphonic setting of the Apostles’ Hodie by William Byrd.

“Recollections of a Vatican II Peritus” by Alfons Cardinal Stickler — Another Nail in the Coffin of the Roche Narrative

Recently on social media, I shared a passage from a 1976 letter from Joseph Ratzinger to Wolfgang Waldstein in which he stated: “The problem of the new Missal lies in its abandonment of a historical process that was always continual, before and after St. Pius V, and in the creation of a completely new book, although it was compiled of old material, the publication of which was accompanied by a prohibition of all that came before it, which, besides, is unheard of in the history of both law and liturgy. And I can say with certainty, based on my knowledge of the conciliar debates and my repeated reading of the speeches made by the Council Fathers, that this does not correspond to the intentions of the Second Vatican Council.” It is good to recall that Ratzinger was not the only high-ranking prelate who had this impression. What follows here is a set of recollections by Cardinal Alfons Stickler, prefect emeritus of the Vatican library and archives, who served as a peritus on the Liturgy Commission of the Second Vatican Council. This essay originally appeared in Franz Breid, ed., Die heilige Liturgie (Steyr, Austria: Ennsthaler Verlag, 1997); it was translated by Thomas E. Woods, Jr. and published in the Winter 1999 edition of The Latin Mass magazine (see here); reprinted here with permission.

Recollections of a Vatican II Peritus
Alfons Cardinal Stickler

My position at the Council — pardon me, please, if I begin with some personal background; it is necessary in order to understand what I have to say. I was Professor of Canon Law and Church Legal History at the Salesian University and for eight years, from 1958 until 1966, I was the university's rector. As such I worked as consultant to the Roman Congregation for Seminaries and Universities; and from the preparatory work to the implementation of Council regulations, I was a member of the Conciliar commission directed by that dicastery. In addition, I was named a peritus of the Commission for the Clergy….

Shortly before the beginning of the Council, Cardinal Larraona, whose student I had been at the Lateran, and who had been named chairman of the Conciliar Commission for the Liturgy, called to say he had suggested me as a peritus of that Commission. I objected that I was already committed to two others, above all the one for seminaries and universities, and as a Council peritus. But he insisted that a canon lawyer had to be called upon on account of the significance of canon law in the requirements of the liturgy. Through an obligation I did not seek, then, I experienced Vatican II from the very beginning.

It is generally known that the liturgy had been placed as the first topic of the discussion sequence. I was appointed to a subcommission that had to consider the modi of the first three chapters, and had also to prepare the texts that would be brought to the Council hall for discussion and voting. This subcommission consisted of three bishops-Archbishop Callewaert of Ghent as president; Bishop Enciso Viana of Majorca and, if I am not mistaken, Bishop Pichler of Yugoslavia-as well as three periti: Bishop Marimort, the Spanish Claretian Father Martinez de Antoñana and me. I understood precisely, therefore, the wishes of the Council fathers, as well as the correct sense of the texts that the Council voted on and adopted.

You can understand my astonishment when I found that the final edition of the new Roman Missal [1969] in many ways did not correspond to the Conciliar texts that I knew so well, and that it contained much that broadened, changed or even was directly contrary to the Council's provisions. Since I knew precisely the entire proceeding of the Council, from the often very lengthy discussions and the processing of the modi up to the repeated votes leading to the final formulations, as well as the texts that included the precise regulations for the implementation of the desired reform, you can imagine my amazement, my growing displeasure, indeed my indignation, especially regarding specific contradictions and changes that would necessarily have lasting consequences.

So I decided to go see Cardinal Gut, who on May 8, 1968 had been named prefect of the Congregation of Rites in place of Cardinal Larraona, who had resigned from the prefecture of the congregation on January 9 of that year. I asked him for an audience at his apartment, which he granted me on November 19, 1969. (Here I would like, incidentally, to note that the date of Cardinal Gut's death is repeatedly given in Archbishop Bugnini's memoirs as one year too early: December 8, 1969 instead of the correct date of 1970.)

He received me very cordially, although he was already visibly quite ill, and I could pour my heart out to him, so to speak. He let me speak without interruption for half an hour, and then said that he shared my concerns completely. He emphasized, however, that the Congregation of Rites bore no blame, for the entire work of reform had been achieved by the Consilium, which was appointed by the Pope specifically for that purpose, and for which Paul VI had chosen Cardinal Lercaro as president and Fr. Bugnini as secretary. This group worked under the direct supervision of the Pope.

Now, Fr. Bugnini had been secretary of the Council's Preparatory Commission for the Liturgy. Because his work had not been satisfactory — it had taken place under the direction of Cardinal Gaetano Cicognani — he was not promoted to secretary of the Conciliar Commission; Fr. Ferdinand Antonelli, OFM (later Cardinal) was named in his place. An organized group of liturgists represented this neglect to Paul VI as an injustice against Fr. Bugnini, and they managed to see that the new Pope, who was very sensitive to such procedures, righted that "injustice" by naming Fr. Bugnini as secretary of the new Consilium responsible for the implementation of the reform.

Both of these appointments — of Cardinal Lercaro and Fr. Bugnini — to key positions on the Consilium made it possible for voices to be heard that could not be heard during the proceedings of the Council, and likewise silenced others. The work of the Consilium was accomplished in working areas that were inaccessible to non-members.

(It must, of course, be left to the future to throw light upon why, despite their great effort in the immense and sensitive work of the Consilium and especially in the heart of the reform, the new Ordo Missae, which had been put together in the shortest time, both men fell visibly out of favor: Cardinal Lercaro had to give up his position as archbishop; and Fr. Bugnini, named Archbishop as well as the new secretary of the Congregation of Rites in 1968, did not receive the red hat to which a position of that kind entitled him but was instead named Nuncio in Tehran, a position he held until he ended his earthly work with his death on July 3, 1982.)

In order to assess the agreement or contradiction between the Council's regulations and the reform as it was actually carried out, let's look briefly at the most important of the Council's instructions for the work of reform.

The general instructions, which concern above all the theological foundations, are contained principally in article 2 of Sacrosanctum Concilium. Here is first stated the earthly-heavenly nature of the Church, her Mystery, as the liturgy should express it: everything human must be ordered to the divine and subordinated to it; the visible to the invisible; the active to the contemplative; the present to the future city of God which we seek. Accordingly, the renewal of the liturgy must also go hand in hand with the development and renewal of the concept of the Church.

Article 21 sets down the precondition for any liturgical reform — that there is in the liturgy an unchanging part, because decreed by God, and parts which can be changed, namely those which in the course of time have intruded in an improper way or have proven less appropriate. Texts and rites must correspond to the order articulated in article 2, and can thereby be better understood by the people and better experienced by them.

In article 23 appear mainly practical guidelines that must be followed to bring about the right relationship between tradition and progress. A precise theological, historical, and pastoral investigation must be undertaken; in addition one must heed the general laws of the structure and of the sense of the liturgy, and the experiences derived from recent liturgical reforms. It is then laid down as a general norm that innovation may be introduced only if a genuine benefit to the Church demands it. Finally, the new forms must always grow organically out of those already existing.

I would like to point out the practical norms which arise for the work of reform from the didactic and pastoral nature of the liturgy. According to article 33, the liturgy is principally the cult of the majesty of God, in which worshippers come into relation with Him by means of visible signs that the liturgy uses in order to express invisible realities, which have been chosen by Christ Himself or by the Church. Here there is a vibrant echo of what the Council of Trent of the Catholic Church already recommended in order to protect her patrimony from the rationalistic and spiritless emptiness of Protestant worship, a patrimony which the Holy Father [John Paul II] in his writings on the Eastern churches has characterized as their special treasure. This "special treasure" also deserves to be a source of nourishment for the Catholic Church. It distinguishes itself by being rich in symbolism, thus providing didactic and pastoral education and enrichment, making it splendidly suited even to the simplest people. When we consider that the Orthodox churches, despite their separation from the rock of the Church, through the symbolic expression and theological progress that continuously found entrance into their liturgy, have preserved the correct beliefs and the sacraments, every Roman Catholic liturgical reform should rather increase the symbolic richness of its form of worship than (sometimes even drastically) decrease it.

As far as the guidelines for the particular parts of the liturgy are concerned — above all for their center, the Sacrifice of the Mass — only a few especially significant points for the reform of the Ordo Missae, on which we are concentrating, should be recorded. Regarding the reform of the Ordo Missae, two Conciliar directives are especially to be emphasized.

In article 50, first the general directive is given that in the reform the intrinsic nature of the several parts of the Mass and the connection between them should be more clearly manifested, in order that devout and active participation might be made easier for the faithful. As a consequence, it is emphasized that the rites should be simplified, while faithfully retaining their substance, and that elements which in the course of centuries had been duplicated or added in a way that was not especially opportune, would again be eliminated; while others, which had been lost with the passage of time, would be restored in harmony with the tradition of the fathers as far as should appear appropriate or necessary.

As far as the active participation of the faithful is concerned, the various elements of external involvement are indicated in article 30, with special emphasis on the necessary silence at the proper moments. The Council comes back to this in greater detail in article 48, with a special note about interior participation, through which alone the divine worship and the attainment of grace jointly with the sacrificing priest and the other participants are made fruitful.

Article 36 speaks about the liturgical language generally, and article 54 of the Mass in particular cases. After a discussion lasting several days, in which arguments for and against were discussed, the Council fathers came to the clear conclusion — wholly in agreement with the Council of Trent — that Latin must be retained as the language of cult in the Latin rite, although exceptional cases were possible and even welcome. We shall return to this point in detail.

Article 116 speaks extensively about Gregorian chant, noting that it has been the classical chant of the Roman Catholic liturgy since the time of Gregory the Great, and as such must be retained. Polyphonic music also deserves attention and cultivation. The other articles of Chapter VI, on sacred music, speak about appropriate music and singing in the Church and the liturgy, and emphasize splendidly the important, indeed the fundamental role of the pipe organ in the Catholic liturgy.

Interestingly, article 107 discusses the reform of the liturgical year, with an emphasis on the affirmation or reintroduction of the traditional elements, retaining their specific character. Particularly emphasized is the importance of feasts of the Lord and in general of the Proprium de tempore in the annual sequence, to which some sacred feasts had to give way in order that the full effectiveness of the celebration of the mysteries of redemption not be impaired.

This account of the liturgical reform in light of the Liturgy Constitution cannot be complete, both as far as the individual subjects are concerned and the way they are treated. I shall select as many and as varied examples as appear necessary in order to reach a convincing conclusion.

The Church and the liturgy grow and develop together, but always in such a way that the earthly is organized around the heavenly. The Mass comes from Christ; it was adopted by the apostles and their successors as well as by the Fathers of the Church; it developed organically, with the conscious retention of its substance. The liturgy developed along with the Faith that is contained within it; thus we can say, with Pope Celestine I, in his writings to the Gallican bishops in the year 422: Legem credendi lex statuit supplicandi: The liturgy contains, and in proper and comprehensible ways, brings the Faith to expression. In this sense the constancy of the liturgy participates in the constancy of the Faith itself; indeed it contributes to its protection. Never has there been, therefore, in any of the Christian-Catholic rites, a break, a radically new creation — with the exception of the post-Conciliar reform. But the Council again and again demanded for the reform a strict adherence to tradition. All reforms, beginning with Gregory I through the Middle Ages, during the entry into the Church of the most disparate peoples with their various customs, have observed this ground rule. This is, incidentally, a characteristic of all religions, including non-revealed ones, which proves that an attachment to tradition is standard in any religious worship, and is therefore natural.

It is not surprising, therefore, that every heretical offshoot from the Catholic Church featured a liturgical revolution, as is most clearly recognized in the case of the Protestants and the Anglicans
; while the reforms effected by the popes, and particularly stimulated by the Council of Trent and carried out by Pope Pius V, through those of Pius X, Pius XII and John XXIII, were no revolutions, but merely insignificant corrections, alignments and enrichments. Nothing new should be introduced, the Council expressly says of the reform desired by the fathers, which the genuine good of the Church does not demand.

There are several clear examples of what the post-Conciliar reform actually produced, above all in its core, the radically new Ordo Missae. The new introduction to the Mass grants a significant place to many variants and, through further concessions to the imagination of the celebrants with their communities, is leading to a practically unlimited multiplicity. Next comes the Lectionary, to which we will return in another connection. Thereupon follows the Offertory which, in its contents and text, represents a revolution. There is to be no preceding sacrificial act, but only a preparation of the gifts with evidently humanized content, which impresses one as contrived from beginning to end. In Italy it was called the sacrifice of the coltivatori diretti, that is, of the few people who still personally cultivate their small parcels of land, for the most part beyond and after their principal occupation. On account of the great technical means at the disposal of agriculture, which today can be maintained only via industry, very little human labor is necessary for the production of bread. From the plowing to the harvester from which the sacks of grain come, few human hands are needed. The substitution of the offering of the gifts for the coming Sacrifice is rather an unfortunate, outdated kind of symbolism that can scarcely replace the many genuine symbolic elements that were suppressed. A tabula rasa was also made of the gestures highly recommended by the Council of Trent and required by the Second Vatican Council, as well as of many Signs of the Cross, altar kisses and genuflections.

The essential center, the sacrificial action itself, suffered a perceptible shift toward Communion, in that the entire Sacrifice of the Mass was changed into a Eucharistic meal, whereby in the consciousness of believers the integrating component of Communion replaced the essential component of the transforming act of sacrifice. Cardinal Ratzinger has expressly determined also, with reference to the most modern dogmatic and exegetical investigations, that it is theologically false to compare the meal with the Eucharist — which practically always occurs in the new liturgy. With that, the groundwork is laid for another essential change: in place of the sacrifice offered by an anointed priest as alter Christus comes the communal meal of the convened faithful under the presiding priest. The intervention of Cardinals Ottaviani and Bacci persuaded the Pope to overturn the definition [in the original General Instruction that accompanied the new Missal] that confirmed this change in the Sacrifice of the Mass; it was "pulped down" by order of Paul VI. The correction of the definition resulted, however, in no change to the Ordo Missae itself.

This change of the heart of the Sacrifice of the Mass received confirmation and activation in the celebration versus populum, a practice which had previously been forbidden and which was a reversal of the entire tradition of celebration towards the East, in which the priest was not the counterpart of the people but rather one who acted in persona Christi, under the symbol of the rising sun in the East.

It is germane to point out a quite serious change in the consecration formula of the wine into the Blood of Christ: the words mysterium fidei were removed, and inserted as a later joint acclamation with the people — quite a strike for "actuosa participatio." What does historical research, which had been prescribed by the Council before every change, now say exclusively? That the words go back to the beginning of the traditions of the Roman Church that are known to us, which had been handed on by St. Peter. St. Basil, who through his studies in Athens was certainly familiar with the Western tradition, says regarding the forms of all the sacraments that they had not been written down in the well-known holy writings of the apostles and their successors and pupils because of the discipline of secrecy that then prevailed, on the ground of which the most holy mysteries of the Church should not be betrayed to pagans. He says expressly, as do all Christian witnesses, who reveal the same conviction, that in addition to the written teachings handed down to us we also have ones that in mysteria tradita sunt [are handed down in mystery] and that date from the tradition of the apostles; he says both have the same value and no one may contradict either. As an example he expressly cites the words through which the Eucharistic bread and the Chalice of Salvation are confected: "which of the saints has handed them down to us in writing?"

All subsequent periods of history expressly attest to this historical inheritance in the Eucharistic consecration formula: the Gelasian sacramentary —the oldest Mass book of the Roman Church — has in the Vatican codex in the original text, not as a later addition, the words "mysterium fidei."

People have always wondered about the origin of these words. In 1202, the emeritus Archbishop John of Lyons posed to Pope Innocent III, whose liturgical knowledge was well known, the question of whether one must believe that the words of the Canon of the Mass, which do not come from the gospels, were passed down by Christ and the apostles to their successors. The Pope answered in a long letter in December of that year that these words, which are not from the gospels, are to be believed as if the apostles received them from Christ and their successors received them in turn. The fact that this decretal, included in the collection of decretal letters of Innocent III, which were combined by Raymond von Penafort by order of Pope Gregory IX, was not excluded as were other outdated ones but rather was passed on, proves that prolonged value was given to this statement of the great Pope.

St. Thomas speaks clearly about our subject in the Summa Theologiae III, q. 78, art. 3, which deals with the words of the consecration of the wine. Explaining the necessary arcane discipline of the ancient Church, he says that the words "mysterium fidei" come from divine tradition, which was given to the Church by the apostles, making particular reference to 1 Cor. 10[11]:23 and 1 Tim. 3:9. A commentator refers to D.D. Gousset in the 1939 Marietti edition: "sarebbe un grandissimo errore sostituire un'altra forma eucharistica a quella del Missale Romano…die sopprimere ad esempio la parola aeterni e quella mysterium fidei che abbiamo dalla tradizione" [it would be a great mistake to substitute another Eucharistic form for that of the Roman Missal...to suppress, for example, the word aeterni and that mysterium fidei which we have from tradition]. The Council of Florence also, in the bull of union with the Jacobites, expressly adds the consecration formula of Holy Mass, which the Roman Church has always used on the foundation of the teaching and authority of the apostles Peter and Paul.

One wonders about the supremely cavalier way in which the colleagues of Cardinal Lercaro and Fr. Bugnini disregarded the obligation of undertaking a detailed historical and theological investigation in the case of so fundamental a change. If such a thing took place in this case, how might they have discharged this fundamental obligation before making other changes?

The Eucharist is not only the unique mystery of our faith; it is also an everlasting one, of which we should always remain conscious. Our everyday Eucharistic life requires a medium that fully embraces this mystery — above all in the modern age, in which the autonomy and self-glorification of modern man resist every concept that goes beyond human knowledge, that reminds him of his limitations. Every theological concept becomes a problem for him, and the liturgy especially as a support of the Faith turns into a permanent object of demystification, that is, of humanizing to the point of making it absolutely understandable. For this reason, the banishing of mysterium fidei from the Eucharistic formula becomes a powerful symbol of demythologization, a symbol of the humanizing of the center of divine worship, of holy Mass.

With that, we come to the various false interpretations — and equally false implementations — of a central demand of the reformers: a fervent, active participation of the faithful in the celebration of the Mass. The main purpose of their participation is what the Council expressly says: the worship of the majesty of God. The heart and soul of the participant must therefore first and foremost be raised to God. (This does not exclude the possibility that participation also becomes activated within the community.) Above all, this actuosa participatio was demanded as a result of the frequently lamented apathy of Mass-goers of the pre-Conciliar period. If it extends itself into an endless talking and doing, which allows all to become active in a kind of hustle and bustle which are intrinsic to every external human assembly, even the most holy moment of the individual's encounter with the Eucharistic God-Man becomes the most talkative and distracted. The contemplative mysticism of the encounter with God and His worship, to say nothing of the reverence which must always accompany it, instantly dies: the human element kills the divine, and fills heart and soul with emptiness and disappointment.

Here a further important point must be mentioned, a decree of the Council not only misunderstood but also completely denied: the language of worship. I am very well acquainted with the argument. As an expert on the commission for the seminaries, I was entrusted with the question of the Latin language. It proved to be brief and concise and after lengthy discussion was brought to a form which complied with the wishes of all members and was ready for presentation in the Council hall. Then, in an unexpected solemnity, Pope John XXIII signed the Apostolic Letter Veterum Sapientia on the altar of St. Peter. According to the opinion of the commission, that made superfluous the Council's declaration on Latin in the Church. (In the document not only the relationship of the Latin language to the liturgy, but also all its other functions in the life of the Church, were pronounced upon.)

As the subject of the language of worship was discussed in the Council hall over the course of several days, I followed the process with great attention, as well as later the various wordings of the Liturgy Constitution until the final vote. I still remember very well how after several radical proposals a Sicilian bishop rose and implored the fathers to allow caution and reason to reign on this point, because otherwise there would be the danger that the entire Mass might be held in the language of the people — whereupon the entire hall burst into uproarious laughter.

I could therefore never understand how Archbishop Bugnini could write, regarding the radical and complete transition from the prescribed Latin to the exclusively vulgar language of worship, that the Council had practically said that the vernacular in the entire Mass was a pastoral necessity! (op. cit., pp. 108-121; I am quoting from the original Italian edition).

To the contrary, I can attest to the fact that regarding the wording of the Council Constitution on this question, in the general part (art. 36) as well as in the special regulations for the Sacrifice of the Mass (art. 54) the Council fathers maintained a practically unanimous agreement — above all in the final vote: 2152 votes in favor and only four against. In my research for the Council decree about the Latin language, I became aware of the concurring opinion of the entire tradition: up to Pope John XXIII, a clearly unfriendly attitude had been taken toward all preceding efforts to the contrary. Consider in particular the cases of the statement of the Council of Trent, sanctioned by anathema, against Luther and Protestantism; of Pius VI against Bishop Ricci and the Synod of Pistoia; and of Pius XI, who deemed the Church's language of worship as "non vulgaris."

Yet this tradition is not at all a question only of ritual, although that is the aspect always emphasized; rather, it is important because the Latin language acts as a reverent curtain against profanation (instead of the iconostasis of the Easterners, behind which the anaphora takes place) and because of the danger that through the vulgar language the whole action of the liturgy might be profaned, which in fact often happens today. The precision of the Latin language, moreover, uniquely does justice to the didactic and dogmatically precise contents of the liturgy, protecting the truth from obfuscation and adulteration. Finally, the universality of Latin both represents and fosters the unity of the whole Church.

Because of its practical importance, I would like especially to go into both of the last-mentioned, with examples. A good friend has the Deutsche Tagespost sent to me regularly. I always read the next-to-last page, on which the editorial staff, very laudably, gives readers the opportunity in letters to the editor to express opposing views. A continuing series of such letters dealt in detail with the "pro multis" of the Latin text of the formula of consecration and with its translation as "for all." Again and again philology was engaged, which often becomes the ruler instead of being merely the handmaid of theology. Monsignor Johannes Wagner says in his Liturgiereformerinnerungen (1993) that the Italians first introduced this translation, although he himself would have been for the literal translation of "many."

Unfortunately, I have never found an appeal to an argument of the first order that is at once theologically decisive and extremely important pastorally; it is contained in the Roman Tridentine Catechism. Here the theological distinction is clearly emphasized: The "pro omnibus" indicates the force that the Redemption has "for all." If one takes into consideration, however, the actual fruit that is allocated to men from it, the Blood of Christ is effective not for all, but rather only "for many," namely for those who draw benefits from it. It is therefore correct that here not "for all" is said, since in this passage only the fruits of the suffering of Christ are spoken of, which come only to the elect. Here application can be found for what the Apostle said in Heb. 9:28, that Christ sacrificed Himself once to take away the sins of "many," and for Christ's own distinction: "I pray for them; I pray not for the world, but for them whom Thou hast given me, because they are thine." In all these words of consecration many secrets are contained that shepherds should recognize through study and with the help of God.

It is not difficult to see here extraordinarily important pastoral truths contained in these dogmatic contents of the Latin language of worship, which unconsciously (or even consciously) are covered up in an inaccurate translation.

A second, even larger source of pastoral misfortune — again, against the explicit will of the Council — results from giving up the Latin language of worship. Latin plays the role of a universal language that unifies the Church's public worship without offending any vernacular tongue. It holds particular importance today, at a time when the developing concept of the Church highlights the entire People of God of the one Mystical Body of Christ, underlined elsewhere in the reform. By introducing the exclusive use of the vernacular, the reform makes out of the unity of the Church a variety of little churches, separated and isolated. Where is the pastoral possibility for Catholics across the whole world to find their Mass, to overcome racial differences through a common language of worship, or even, in an increasingly small world, simply to be able to pray together, as the Council explicitly calls for? Where is the pastoral practicability now for every priest to exercise the highest priestly act — Holy Mass — everywhere, above all in a world that is short of priests?

In the Conciliar Constitution the introduction of a three-year Lectionary is nowhere spoken of. Through it the reform commission made itself guilty of a crime against nature. A simple calendar year would have been sufficient for all wishes of change. The Consilium could have stuck to a yearly cycle, enriching the readings with as many and as varied a choice of collection as one would want without breaking up the natural yearly course. Instead, the old order of readings was destroyed and a new one introduced, with a great burden and expense of books, in which as many texts as possible could be accommodated, not only from the world of the Church but also — as was widely practiced — from the profane world. Apart from the pastoral difficulties for parishioners' understanding of texts demanding special exegesis, it turned out also as an opportunity — which was seized — to manipulate the retained texts in order to introduce new truths in place of the old. Pastorally unpopular passages — often of fundamental theological and moral significance — were simply eliminated. A classic example is the text from 1 Cor. 11:27-29: here, in the narrative of the institution of the Eucharist, the serious concluding exhortation about the grave consequences of unworthy reception has been consistently left out, even on the Feast of Corpus Christi. The pastoral necessity of that text in the face of today's mass reception without confession and without reverence is obvious.

That blunders could be made in the new readings, above all in the choice of their introductory and concluding words, is exemplified by Klaus Gamber's note on the end of the reading on the first Sunday in Lent of the Reading Cycle for Year A, which speaks of the consequences of Original Sin: "Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked." Whereupon the people, performing their duty of lively and active participation, must answer: "Thanks be to God."

Furthermore, why was the alteration of the sequence of the sacred feasts necessary? If any caution were needed it was here, in pastoral concern and awareness regarding the people's attachment to their local Church feasts, whose temporal disarrangement had to have a very negative influence on popular piety. For these considerations the implementers of the reform appear to have had no great sympathy at all, despite articles 9, 12, 13 and 37 of the Liturgy Constitution.

A brief word must still be said about the realization of the Council regulations regarding liturgical music. Our reformers certainly did not share the great praise for the Gregorian chant that was being regarded more and more highly by secular observers and enthusiasts. The radical abolition (above all through the creation of new choral parts of the Mass) of the Introit, Gradual, Tract, Alleluia, Offertory, Communion (and this especially as a prayer of the community), in favor of others of considerably greater length was a silent death sentence for the wonderful variable Gregorian melodies, with the exception only of the simple melodies for the fixed parts of the Mass, namely the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus/Benedictus and Agnus Dei — and that only for few Masses. The instructions of the Council for the protection and fostering of this ancient Roman liturgical singing met a practically deadly epidemic.

The widely beloved Church instrument of the pipe organ experienced a similar fate through the abundant substitution of instruments, whose enumeration and characterization I can leave to your rich personal experience, with the sole remark that they have prepared the way in not a few cases for the entry of diabolical elements into Church music.

The latitude allowed for innovation represents a last, important subject of this account of the practical elements of the reform. This latitude is present in the original Latin Roman Order of Mass. Among the various national orders, the German Order of Mass stands out through many further concessions of this kind. It practically eliminates the strict, absolute ban of §3, art. 22 of the Conciliar Constitution — namely, that no one, not even a priest, may on his own authority add, leave out or alter anything. The violations in the entire course of the Mass that are escalating more and more against this ban of the Council are becoming the cause of resounding disorder, which the old Latin Ordo, with its much-lamented rigidity, so successfully prevented. The new guarantor of order thus contributes to disorder, and one may not, therefore, wonder when again and again he discovers that in every parish a different Ordo seems to be in force.

With that we have arrived at the public, if also limited, negative statements about the reform of the Mass. Archbishop Bugnini himself discusses them with commendable honesty on pages 108-121 of his memoirs of the reform, without being able to contradict them. In his memoir and in Msgr. Wagner's, the insecurity of the Consilium is obvious over the reform they so hastily carried out. There also appears little sensibility towards the prior "theological, historical, pastoral" research ordained by the Council as necessary to any alteration. For example, the expert capacities of Msgr. Gamber, the German historian of the liturgy, were completely ignored. The incomprehensible rush with which the reform was hammered into shape and made obligatory actually caused influential bishops who were anything but attached to tradition to reconsider. A monsignor who had accompanied Cardinal Döpfner as secretary to Salzburg for the passing of a resolution of the German-speaking bishops for the activation of the new Order of Mass in their countries told me that the Cardinal was very reticent on the return journey to Munich. He then briefly expressed his fear that a delicate pastoral matter had been dealt with too hastily.

In order to avoid any misunderstanding, I would like to emphasize that I have never cast in doubt the dogmatic or juridical validity of the Novus Ordo Missae although in the case of the juridical question serious doubts have come to me in view of my intensive work with the medieval canonists. They are of the unanimous opinion that the popes may change anything with the exception of what the Holy Scriptures prescribe or what concerns previously enacted doctrinal decisions of the highest level, and the status ecclesiae. There is no perfect clarity with regard to this [latter] concept. This attachment to tradition in the case of fundamental things which have conclusively influenced the Church in the course of time certainly belongs to this fixed, unchanging status, over which even the Pope has no right of disposal. The meaning of the liturgy for the entire concept of the Church and its development, which was also especially emphasized by Vatican II as unchangeable in nature, leads us to believe that it in fact should belong to the status ecclesiae.

It must nevertheless be said that these regrettable misuses, which above all are consequences of the discrepancy between the Conciliar Constitution and the Novus Ordo, do not occur when the new liturgy is reverently celebrated — as is always the case, for example, when the Holy Father offers Mass. It cannot, however, escape experts of the old liturgy what a great distinction exists between the corpus traditionum, which was alive in the old Mass, and the contrived Novus Ordo — to the decided disadvantage of the latter. Shepherds, scholars, and lay faithful have noticed it, of course; and the multitude of opposing voices increased with time. Thus the reigning Holy Father himself, in his Apostolic Letter Dominicae Cenae of February 24, 1980, regarding the mystery and worship of the Eucharist, pointed out that questions concerning the liturgy, above all of the Eucharist, should never be the occasion for dividing Catholics and seeing the unity of the Church sundered; it is, he said, indeed the "sacrament of piety, the symbol of unity, and the bond of charity."

In his Apostolic Letter on the twenty-fifth anniversary of the approval of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy on December 4, 1963, which was published on December 4, 1988, after praising the renewal in the line of tradition, the Pope deals with the concrete application of the reform: he points to the difficulties and the positive results, but also in detail to incorrect applications. He also says expressly that it is the duty of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments to protect the great principles of the Catholic liturgy, as illustrated and developed in the Liturgy Constitution, and to be mindful of the responsibilities of the bishops' conferences and the bishops.

Cardinal Ratzinger, the protector of the Faith (and of the worship connected with it) closest to the Pope, has repeatedly commented on the post-Conciliar liturgical reform, and with a singular profundity and clarity has subjected its theological and pastoral problems to constructive criticism. I remind you only of the book The Feast of Faith (1981), of the prologue to the French translation of the short basic book by Klaus Gamber, and finally of the references in his recent books, Salt of the Earth and his autobiography La mia vita, both published in 1997.

Among the German-speaking bishops, the one responsible for the liturgy in the Austrian bishops' conference pointed out in 1995 that the Council had intended no revolution but a reform of the liturgy faithful to tradition. Instead, he said, a worship of spontaneity and improvisation bears a share of the blame for the declining number of people at Mass.

Lastly, the Primate of Belgium, Cardinal Daneels, who certainly cannot be called a stick-in-the-mud, has subjected the entire reform to devastating criticism: there has been a 180-degree turn, he says, with the transition from an obedience to rubrics to their free manipulation, through which one himself makes use of the liturgy in order to rearrange the service and worship of God into a creative people's assembly, into a real "happening," into a discourse in which the individual wants to play a role instead of the Son of God, Jesus Christ, in whose house he is a guest. Man's desire to understand the service, Daneels says, should lead not to a subjective human creativity, but to a penetration of the mysteries of God. One would not have to explain the liturgy, but live it as a window to the invisible.

When we climb lower rungs of the ladder of the people of God, we find even among the members of the Consilium a colleague indicated as critical by Archbishop Bugnini: L. Bouyer, who has not been silent in the meantime.

In Italy the hard-hitting critique The Torn Tunic (1967), by the high-profile lay writer Tito Casini, with a prologue by Cardinal Bacci, made a sensation. Slowly more and more growing lay groups, to which many intellectuals of high standing belonged, organized themselves into national movements, above all in Europe and North America, and were connected in Europe and beyond in the international organization Una Voce; the problems of the reform were also discussed in journals, among which the German Una Voce Korrespondenz stands out. In a characteristic summary, the Canadian Precious Blood Banner of October 1995 says that it is becoming clearer and clearer that the radicalism of the post-Conciliar reformers did not consist of renewing the Catholic liturgy from its roots, but in tearing it from its traditional soil. It did not rework the Roman rite, which it was asked to do by the Liturgy Constitution of Vatican II, but uprooted it.

Shortly before his death, the well-known Prior of Taize, Max Thurian, a Catholic convert who was previously a Calvinist, expounded his view of the reform in a long article entitled "The Liturgy as Contemplation of the Mystery" in L'Osservatore Romano (May 27-28, 1996, p. 9). After an understandable expression of praise for the Council and for the Liturgy Commission, which were supposed to bring forth the most admirable fruits, he says expressly that the entire contemporary celebration often takes place as a dialogue in which there is no place for prayer, contemplation, and silence. The constant opposing of the celebrants and the faithful isolates the community within itself. A healthy celebration, on the other hand, which gives the altar a privileged position, conveys the duty of the celebrant, that is, to orient all toward the Lord and the worship of His presence, which is represented in the symbols and realized in the Sacrament. This conveys to the liturgy that contemplative breath without which it becomes an awkward religious discussion, an empty communal activity and a kind of prattle.

Thurian makes a number of personal proposals for authority in the event of a revision of the "Principles and norms for the use of the Missale Romanum" (one sees that he nourishes the hope that it could be possible), which clearly demonstrate dissatisfaction with the present principles. Under the title of "The Priest in the Service of the Liturgy," he gives a series of distinguished criticisms of the present situation, which share practically all the severe reproaches of our account, and which merit individual examination….

I would like briefly to add, as an ecumenical reference, two experiences with the Eastern Churches. During a visit at the end of the Council…representatives of the Patriarchate of Constantinople said in personal conversations that they did not understand why the Roman Church insisted on changing the liturgy; one should not do such a thing. The Eastern Church, they said, owed its retention of the Faith to its faithfulness to liturgical tradition and to the liturgy's healthy development. I also heard somewhat similar things from members of the Patriarchate of Moscow, who looked after the Vatican Historical Commission during the International Historical Congress in Moscow in 1970.

Two more significant reports from the world of the ordinary and the uneducated, which best express the genuine sensus fidei of the children of God: Two young boy scouts of ten and twelve from the Siena area, who assist at the so-called Tridentine Mass every Saturday, based on the privilege granted by the Archbishop of Siena, answered my provocative question as to which Mass they liked better, that since they attended the old Mass they no longer enjoyed the new.

A simple, elderly farmer, who comes from a poor area of Molise, told me spontaneously that he always goes only to the six o'clock Tridentine Mass because he considers the change to the liturgy to be a change of the Faith that he wanted to retain. Msgr. Klaus Gamber, an outstanding expert I have already mentioned, has published strictly academic accounts, above all his summary The Reform of the Roman Liturgy: Its Problems and Background,* that were more or less silenced by the official specialist literature, but are being rediscovered now for their penetrating clarity and insight. He arrived at the conclusion that today we stand before the ruins of a 2,000-year tradition, and that it is to be feared that as a result of the countless reforms the tradition is now in such a vandalized mess that it may be difficult to revive it. One hardly dares any longer to pose the question whether after this dismantling a reconstruction of the old order may come.

Still, one should not give up hope. Concerning the dismantling, we see how it is reflected in the orders given by the Council. They say: no innovation may be introduced unless the real and certain benefit of the Church demands it, and then only after a precise theological, historical, and pastoral investigation. Moreover, any change must be made in such a way that the new forms always arise organically from those already existing. Whether this happened, my recollections can give you only a limited picture. They should show, however, whether the essential theological and ecclesiological requirements were fulfilled in the reform, namely whether the liturgy, above all its heart, Holy Mass, ordered the human to the divine and subordinated the former to the latter, the visible to the invisible, the active to the contemplative, the present to the eternity to come; or whether the reform has, on the contrary, frequently subordinated the divine to the human, the invisible mystery to what is visible, the contemplative to active participation, the eternity to come to the mundane human present.

But precisely the ever-clearer recognition of the real situation strengthens the hope for a possible reconstruction, which Cardinal Ratzinger sees in a new liturgical movement that resurrects the true inheritance of the Vatican Council to new life (La mia vita, 1997, p. 113).

Let me close with a comforting prospect: the reigning Holy Father, John Paul II, in his distinctive pastoral sensibility, articulated his concern in a 1980 appeal regarding the problems that the change of the liturgy created in the Catholic Church, but he met with no response from the bishops. That is why he decided, certainly not with a light heart, in 1984 to issue an apostolic indult for all who felt attached to the old liturgy for reasons I have emphasized, above all because of the liturgical innovations which, far from decreasing, are still escalating. Because he had understandably given it to the bishops, but only under narrow conditions and at their good pleasure, it had only very limited pastoral success.

After the unauthorized consecration of bishops by Archbishop Lefebvre, certainly with the intention of avoiding an extensive schism, he issued on July 2, 1988 a new motu proprio, Ecclesia Dei adflicta, in which he not only assured members of the Society of St. Pius X willing to be reconciled in the Fraternity of St. Peter of the possibility of remaining faithful to the ancient liturgical tradition, but he also now gave the bishops a very generous privilege, which was supposed to fulfill the legitimate desires of the faithful. He recommended specially to the bishops to imitate his generosity to the faithful who feel attached to the fixed forms of the old liturgy and discipline, and stated that one must respect all those who feel attached to the ancient liturgical tradition. The text — designed very generously this time for the bishops — gives us justifiable confidence that the Pope, in his efforts to re-establish unity and peace, not only will not relent, but rather will continue to tread the path shown in numbers 5 and 6 of the 1988 motu proprio, in order to bring about the legitimate reconciliation between the indispensable tradition and time-bound development.

To read more about and from Cardinal Stickler, see here, here, and here.

Cardinal Stickler offering the Mass he so loved

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