As Kevin Tierney has pointed out more than once, there are many indications that Traditionis Custodes has been a tremendous failure in its overt mission of ridding the Church once for all of the dreaded Tridentine rite.
For sure, its implementation (like that of Sacrosanctum Concilium) has led to damages, divisions, and dismay in far too many places, but worldwide there has been little attempt to suppress the old rite altogether, which continues to flourish in or adjacent to parishes and in certain fortunate dioceses. Pope Leo XIV himself has signaled that this policy is no longer a priority and has urged making room for diverse “sensibilities.” Whether he will dismantle or modify his predecessor’s legislation on this point is difficult to say.
All the same, Traditionis Custodes looks like an act of violence in comparison with the pacific intentions of Summorum Pontificum, and it is well for us to reflect on the deeper theological and pastoral issues at stake, in order (ideally) to move away from the violence towards peaceful coexistence and even, dare one say, mutual enrichment – at least of communities, if not of rites.
Fortunately a new book has been published that serves exactly this purpose, and does so with brilliant insightfulness. I cannot recommend it too highly. The title is Liturgical Peace, Liturgical War: Benedict XVI’s “Summorum Pontificum” and Its Critics (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2026; also available at Amazon), and its author is Tomasz Dekert, a professor at the Jesuit University Ignatianum in Krakow, Poland, who has written it in English.
The book advances the thesis that the motu proprio Summorum Pontificum of Benedict XVI initiated a genuine – though long-term and demanding – process of leading the Catholic Church out of the postwar “liturgical conflict,” whereas the subsequent Traditionis Custodes interrupted this process and intensified existing tensions.
The author argues that the roots of the conflict lie not merely in opposing preferences (tradition vs. reform), but in a deeper problem: a flawed understanding of the nature of liturgy as ritual, structured by abstract and functionalist assumptions, which came to dominate approaches to liturgy in the context of postwar liturgical reforms. In particular, he criticizes approaches that subordinate ritual form to theological or cultural constructs, rather than recognizing its primary, “self-evident” character – that is, its sensibly apprehensible, performative, and socially constitutive nature.
An important component of the book is its polemic with critics of Summorum Pontificum, who view it as a threat to the unity of the Church, an expression of nostalgia, or an ideological project. The author argues that such criticism rests on the same reductionist understanding of liturgy that underpinned the postwar reform, treating it as an instrument for expressing or shaping doctrine and identity, rather than as a constitutive practice that is prior to them.
Drawing on the ritual theory of Roy A. Rappaport, the author demonstrates that the stability and repetitiveness of ritual form are conditions for the functioning of a religious community. Consequently, the radical and top-down liturgical reform following the Second Vatican Council – intervening in the entirety of the ritual’s “canonical” layer – necessarily led to a profound crisis within the Church, affecting not only liturgy, but also its structure of meaning and its unity.
Against this background, Summorum Pontificum appears as an attempt to restore ritual continuity by permitting the coexistence of liturgical forms and creating the conditions for their organic interaction, as well as for a gradual and patient healing of the situation. By contrast, Traditionis Custodes, grounded in the same problematic vision of liturgy as that of the critics of Summorum Pontificum, abandons this path and seeks an administrative resolution to the conflict, which – according to the author – leads to its escalation and entrenchment.
Ultimately, the book argues that overcoming the “liturgical war” cannot be achieved at the level of legal decisions or theoretical disputes, but requires a fundamental revision of the theological understanding of liturgy: namely, the recognition of its ontological and social role as a constitutive practice, and the restoration of its continuity as a condition for the unity of the Church.
With regard to the Novus Ordo, Dekert’s book makes essentially one claim – but a fundamental one with extensive ramifications, namely, that its introduction was a mistake because of the sheer scale of the change it brought about, a change which, precisely for that reason, could not help but act in a profoundly destructive way upon the Catholic system.
One wonders to what extent this kind of approach – far more anthropological than theological – can or will be taken seriously by contemporary theologians, that is, by those who operate primarily in the world of words, concepts, and ideas. This is a world in which, and with which, a mind sufficiently skilled in dialectics and interpretation can do almost anything. One can, for example, “prove” that although adding two apples to another two gives us four apples, “in reality” recognizing that there are seven will make us richer! When reading today’s mainstream liturgical writers, one often feels as if their defense of the post-conciliar liturgical reform amounts to something along these lines. The argument takes place at the level of ideas, not at the level of actual practice and its impact on real people.
This cuts both ways: if you want to understand why the traditional rite is so powerful and attractive, you must not stop at the level of ideas, but pay close attention to the way in which living it, participating in it according to its own rhythm and symbology, profoundly shapes consciousness and worldview.
One other tremendous strength in Dekert’s book is his thrilling treatment of the involvement and significance of papal authority in the process of reform and the implications this carried, both for Catholics within the Church and for ecumenical relations, especially with the East.
The price tag of the book is very high, as is the strange custom of academic publishers, but we may hope that it will eventually go down, as occurred with U. Michael Lang’s book on the Roman Rite, which eventually came out in a paperback edition as well. But if you or an institution you work for can afford Dekert’s book now, take my word for it: the book is worth every penny. It is one of the most insightful critiques of the liturgical reform I’ve ever read.
For sure, its implementation (like that of Sacrosanctum Concilium) has led to damages, divisions, and dismay in far too many places, but worldwide there has been little attempt to suppress the old rite altogether, which continues to flourish in or adjacent to parishes and in certain fortunate dioceses. Pope Leo XIV himself has signaled that this policy is no longer a priority and has urged making room for diverse “sensibilities.” Whether he will dismantle or modify his predecessor’s legislation on this point is difficult to say.
All the same, Traditionis Custodes looks like an act of violence in comparison with the pacific intentions of Summorum Pontificum, and it is well for us to reflect on the deeper theological and pastoral issues at stake, in order (ideally) to move away from the violence towards peaceful coexistence and even, dare one say, mutual enrichment – at least of communities, if not of rites.
Fortunately a new book has been published that serves exactly this purpose, and does so with brilliant insightfulness. I cannot recommend it too highly. The title is Liturgical Peace, Liturgical War: Benedict XVI’s “Summorum Pontificum” and Its Critics (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2026; also available at Amazon), and its author is Tomasz Dekert, a professor at the Jesuit University Ignatianum in Krakow, Poland, who has written it in English.
The author argues that the roots of the conflict lie not merely in opposing preferences (tradition vs. reform), but in a deeper problem: a flawed understanding of the nature of liturgy as ritual, structured by abstract and functionalist assumptions, which came to dominate approaches to liturgy in the context of postwar liturgical reforms. In particular, he criticizes approaches that subordinate ritual form to theological or cultural constructs, rather than recognizing its primary, “self-evident” character – that is, its sensibly apprehensible, performative, and socially constitutive nature.
An important component of the book is its polemic with critics of Summorum Pontificum, who view it as a threat to the unity of the Church, an expression of nostalgia, or an ideological project. The author argues that such criticism rests on the same reductionist understanding of liturgy that underpinned the postwar reform, treating it as an instrument for expressing or shaping doctrine and identity, rather than as a constitutive practice that is prior to them.
Drawing on the ritual theory of Roy A. Rappaport, the author demonstrates that the stability and repetitiveness of ritual form are conditions for the functioning of a religious community. Consequently, the radical and top-down liturgical reform following the Second Vatican Council – intervening in the entirety of the ritual’s “canonical” layer – necessarily led to a profound crisis within the Church, affecting not only liturgy, but also its structure of meaning and its unity.
Against this background, Summorum Pontificum appears as an attempt to restore ritual continuity by permitting the coexistence of liturgical forms and creating the conditions for their organic interaction, as well as for a gradual and patient healing of the situation. By contrast, Traditionis Custodes, grounded in the same problematic vision of liturgy as that of the critics of Summorum Pontificum, abandons this path and seeks an administrative resolution to the conflict, which – according to the author – leads to its escalation and entrenchment.
Ultimately, the book argues that overcoming the “liturgical war” cannot be achieved at the level of legal decisions or theoretical disputes, but requires a fundamental revision of the theological understanding of liturgy: namely, the recognition of its ontological and social role as a constitutive practice, and the restoration of its continuity as a condition for the unity of the Church.
With regard to the Novus Ordo, Dekert’s book makes essentially one claim – but a fundamental one with extensive ramifications, namely, that its introduction was a mistake because of the sheer scale of the change it brought about, a change which, precisely for that reason, could not help but act in a profoundly destructive way upon the Catholic system.
One wonders to what extent this kind of approach – far more anthropological than theological – can or will be taken seriously by contemporary theologians, that is, by those who operate primarily in the world of words, concepts, and ideas. This is a world in which, and with which, a mind sufficiently skilled in dialectics and interpretation can do almost anything. One can, for example, “prove” that although adding two apples to another two gives us four apples, “in reality” recognizing that there are seven will make us richer! When reading today’s mainstream liturgical writers, one often feels as if their defense of the post-conciliar liturgical reform amounts to something along these lines. The argument takes place at the level of ideas, not at the level of actual practice and its impact on real people.
This cuts both ways: if you want to understand why the traditional rite is so powerful and attractive, you must not stop at the level of ideas, but pay close attention to the way in which living it, participating in it according to its own rhythm and symbology, profoundly shapes consciousness and worldview.
One other tremendous strength in Dekert’s book is his thrilling treatment of the involvement and significance of papal authority in the process of reform and the implications this carried, both for Catholics within the Church and for ecumenical relations, especially with the East.
The price tag of the book is very high, as is the strange custom of academic publishers, but we may hope that it will eventually go down, as occurred with U. Michael Lang’s book on the Roman Rite, which eventually came out in a paperback edition as well. But if you or an institution you work for can afford Dekert’s book now, take my word for it: the book is worth every penny. It is one of the most insightful critiques of the liturgical reform I’ve ever read.
