Pope Benedict and the Original and New Liturgical Movement: Some Personal Reflections

The following is written by the Rev. Richard Gennaro Cipolla, a convert from Anglicanism, who was ordained a priest in 1984.

I was in Rome a good number of years ago and had made a breakfast appointment with a priest friend of mine who was living there and completing advanced studies. I told him that we would meet at the obelisk in St. Peter’s Square at 7 a.m. I arrived a bit early and stood there watching for my friend. Suddenly I saw a priest in a plain black cassock walking from the Borgo side of the piazza towards me. As he approached, I recognized him with his shock of white hair. It was Cardinal Ratzinger. I tried to quickly figure out what I should do—play it cool and just offer a nod and a “Buon giorno, Eminenza,” or whether I should express my deep appreciation for his presence in my life through his writings in beautifully phrased Italian or even English, in which he was fluent. As he approached the obelisk I became choked up and could not speak. I knelt on the paving stones of the piazza, looked up to him, and asked for his blessing. He smiled and gave me the blessing, and then proceeded through the piazza on his way to his office in the Palazzo del Sant’ Uffizio.

Why was I choked up and unable to speak? Because it was Joseph Ratzinger’s writings—at whose heart, no matter what was the topic at hand, was the person of Jesus Christ—that were my comfort and solace for my first fifteen years as a Catholic priest, at a time when I tried to fit in with those who had deliberately turned their back on Catholic Tradition and had embraced the gross misunderstanding of human freedom that flourished in the ‘70s and ‘80s, a misunderstanding which is still with us in the Church today. I failed in that attempt to fit in and that failure was a great grace for me. And I finally understood God’s words to St. Paul: “My grace is sufficient for thee.”

As Pope, Benedict XVI never celebrated the ancient rite, but his many writings, and his later Motu Proprio, Summorum Pontificum, underscored the need for liturgical practice in line with Catholic Tradition.

After Pope Benedict’s death a month ago, there were many who said that he was among the greatest theologians ever to sit in the Chair of Peter. And that may be true, but not merely because of his intellect. It was true because at the very heart of his theology was not a system or a comprehensive explanation of the development of dogma: at the heart of everything he wrote was the person of Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.

There is a photo of Ratzinger and the theologian Karl Rahner at the first session of the Second Vatican Council. Both were in coat and tie, no cassock, no clerical collar. Those were the heady times of a promise of a new springtime for the Church, the jettisoning of the baggage of the past that seemed to prevent her from fulfilling her mission to a world that was undergoing, at least in the West, a radical transformation seen to be opening to a future of freedom and hope, unfettered by the past marked by two terrible World Wars that seemed to have destroyed the heart of what was known as Western civilization. It took only one more session of the Council for Ratzinger and other theologians to realize that the strong theme of openness to the world that gained momentum at the Council was in real danger of leading to a break with Catholic Tradition. We must be always reminded Catholic Tradition has nothing to do with traditions within the Church. Certain prayers, customs, foods associated with certain feasts, processions, local feasts and devotions, even the Rosary: all good and part of the richness of the practice of the Catholic faith, these traditions. But the Catholic Tradition is the foundation of the faith, in the witness of the Apostles first of all, then the witness of Scripture, then the reality of the presence of the Holy Spirit guiding the faith of the Church and its development through two millennia. In breaking away from Tradition, there was and still is the danger of forgetting that the center of the Christian faith is the person of Jesus Christ who is the same, yesterday, today and forever.

Many young priests and new generations of faithful found the beauty and awe-inspiring wonder of Tradition.

The rest, as they say, is history. Ratzinger became the defender of the Tradition of the Church for the rest of his life, as Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Faith, and then, as Pope. For that he was despised by many of those in the Church hierarchy and in theological faculties who lusted after accommodation to the world, the world as understood by the Gospel of John. And through this he always understood that the worship of the Church lay at the very heart of Tradition and that to attack the liturgical Tradition of the Church is like cancer cells attacking the human body. He saw clearly in his writings on the liturgy that something bad had happened in the liturgical life of the Church after the imposition of the Mass of Paul VI. Worship was in danger of becoming a closed circle: the priest and people staring at each other amidst a barrage of words, making no room for the verticality of the Mass that links heaven and earth, and denying the necessary role of beauty in Catholic worship of God.

But writing is not enough. The greatest achievement of his papacy was and still is and always will be his Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum, which broke the spell of the noxiously false idea that what was sacred yesterday is no longer sacred today. In freeing the Mass of Catholic Tradition from its bondage imposed by the very hierarchy of the Church, he not only opened the way to the discovery of the Traditional Mass by so many people who have found therein the beauty of Catholic worship in the offering of the Holy Sacrifice of the Son to the Father in the power of the Holy Spirit and thereby deepened their faith in the Risen Lord. He also laid the foundation for a generation of young priests who have found the pearl of great price and will never forget what they have found, despite all attempts of those in power who have turned their back on the liturgical beauty and power of the Catholic Tradition and who have tried to use the ugly means of force to stamp out the Traditional Roman Mass.

Pope Benedict never celebrated the Traditional Mass himself. He believed he should not do so. It is not for us to judge him on this matter. It is for us to thank him for his courage and love in making possible the beginning of the true Liturgical Movement whose original purpose was not to invent a new rite. But rather, after many years of rote routine and rubrical mentality that scandalously gave us the 17-minute Low Mass as a norm of Sunday worship, to re-introduce to the people of the Church the power and beauty and meaning of the Mass of Catholic Tradition. It is now up to us work to fulfill that task with faith and love.

Location for NYC Newman Mass changed to St. Catherine of Siena

The location of Wednesday, October 9 Mass in New York City has been changed. It will be celebrated in St. Catherine of Siena Church, 411 East 68th Street in Manhattan at 7 p.m.
The Mass is in anticipation of the canonization, which will take place on Sunday, October 13. The Mass is sponsored by the St Hugh of Cluny Society, and will be celebrated by its chaplain, the Rev. Richard G. Cipolla. David Hughes will direct the music, which includes: Ludford, Missa Inclina cor meum Deus; Philips, Save Regina a 8; Hughes, Salve Fundator (text by J. Hunwicke); Harris, Lead, Kindly Light;  and Terry, Praise to the Holiest in the Height.

Photos from the Second Annual Lepanto Conference in New York City

On Saturday, February 16th, the second annual Lepanto Conference was held at St Vincent Ferrer Church in New York City.

This year’s conference began with a Pontifical Mass at the faldstool, a Votive Mass of Pope St Pius V, celebrated by Auxiliary Bishop James Massa of the Brooklyn Diocese, who preached at the Mass (video here), which was well attended by both young people and adults, numbering over seven hundred. The Mass setting was Palestrina’s Missa Tu Es Petrus à 6. From the records that have been searched, this seems to be the first Pontifical Mass celebrated in St Vincent Ferrer Church in recorded history. [Update: a reader has indicated in the comments that a Pontifical Mass was celebrated in 1918 for the dedication of the Church.]

The Mass was completely set up and carried out by local clergy and seminarians — a glowing example of bringing forth the treasure of the usus antiquior of the Roman Rite within a diocesan setting. The subdeacon was Fr Seán Connolly of the Archdiocese of New York, the deacon was Rev. Mr Roger Kwan, a transitional deacon for the Archdiocese of New York who will be ordained a priest this spring. The Assistant Priest was Fr Richard Cipolla of the Diocese of Bridgeport.

A catered conference followed, featuring Fr Gerald Murray, Fr Cipolla, and myself as speakers (links are to videos of the lectures).

The Lepanto Conference is a magnificent testimony to the beauty and power of Catholic Tradition for the renewal of the Church today. I was proud to be part of it and especially impressed with the young people who organized and ran it. If Vatican officials would like to find out someday how to get youth interested and involved again in the life of the Church, they should visit a conference like this, sit in choir, take notes, and go home with a new pastoral plan.

It was almost extremely gratifying to see members of the New York Police Department serving as an honor guard at Mass. They entered in procession, stood to the sides, remained in the front pews for the entire service, and recessed with the dignitaries. It was one of those rare moments when you see a little chink in the wall between Church and State.

A number of photos of the pontifical Mass were sent to me, which I now gladly share.

Vesting of bishop in side chapel

The procession forms

Continue Reading this Article. . .

Announcement: February Events in the New York City Area

The Society of St. Hugh of Cluny is sponsoring two February events in the NYC area. The first is a lecture at St. Mary's in Norwalk by Dr. Peter Kwasniewski on Thursday, February 14th at 6:30 pm, preceded by Vespers and Benediction at 5:30 pm. The second is the Second Annual Lepanto Conference on Saturday, February 16th, opening with a Pontifical Mass at St. Vincent Ferrer's and continuing with lectures by Fr. Gerald Murray, Dr. Peter Kwasniewski, and Fr. Richard Cipolla.

Full details may be found in the posters below.

Two Attitudes toward Ordinary Form Rubrics: Kantian Duty and Aristotelian Epikeia

Over the years at NLM, various authors have published articles concerning how the Ordinary Form might be “enriched” or “improved,” usually by way of adapting or importing practices of the traditional Roman rite. Sometimes this has taken the modest form of recommending that the OF’s own rubrics be actually followed (e.g., on the ad orientem stance, or on the use of Propers), and that a celebrant exercise a well-informed liturgical phronesis (prudence or practical wisdom) in the choice of options. At other times, the proposals have been more comprehensive, as in Fr. Richard Cipolla’s “A Primer for a Tradition-Minded Celebration of the OF Mass.” Such proposals tend to be greeted with two strongly contrasting reactions: a warm welcome from proponents of “mutual enrichment,” or a stern rebuke from those who see them as fomenting disobedience to the new liturgical books and the documents that control their use.

I submit that we can find a way forward in this debate by considering the contrast between the Kantian notion of duty and the Aristotelian notion of epikeia, often translated “equity.”

For Kant, duty is something absolute: in Germanic fashion, one ought never to swerve from the strict provisions of the law. In fact, the only way we can know that we are virtuous is by suppressing any subjective motivation or personal judgment about what is right to do and submitting to the objectivity of legal dictates. In this perspective, there is no room for going beyond the letter of the law to achieve more perfectly the law’s own intention of promoting the common good. If a traffic light or crosswalk signal is red, one must always stop at it, regardless of the circumstances.

For Aristotle, in contrast, formulated laws, as necessary as they are for social life, suffer from the inherent flaw of having been universally framed (as if to embody a timeless and placeless rational perspective), and thus incapable of responding to certain immediate needs. While justice is surely founded on law-abidingness, it is perfected by an additional virtue called epikeia, whereby one judges well of when and how to adapt the law to specific circumstances. Epikeia is the virtue of seeing past the phrasing of the law to the good it intends to safeguard or promote, so that one may do that which will best safeguard or promote that very good — even if at times it involves stepping aside from the literal dictate of the law. Hence, if the traffic light is red, but one has a seriously injured person as a passenger, one looks both ways and then drives straight through the red light to reach the hospital.[1]

In light of this brief sketch, it seems to me that people come at liturgical law and rubrics from one of two positions:

1. The Kantian: “Say the Black, Do the Red.” No more and no less.

2. The Aristotelian: “Say the Black, Do the Red, in accord with the requirements of liturgy and the pattern of tradition.” In other words, you must do and say the things that are directed, and refrain from doing or saying the things that are prohibited, but beyond this there is a wise liberty to practice unity with one’s Catholic tradition, letting it dictate the way the liturgy should be offered. A priest friend described this view as “classical liberal traditionalism.”[2]

(For the sake of completeness, there is a third position one might identify: the Liberal or Progressive. The clergy who espouse it, however well-intentioned they may be, neither consistently say the black nor do the red, but abuse their positions to improvise and make stuff up as they go along — e.g., arbitrarily speaking aloud prayers that are supposed to be silent.)

Now it seems to me that the Kantian position lines up with those who would see themselves as, or whom others would call, “conservatives,” while the Aristotelian view lines up with those who might are more likely to be characterized as “traditionalists,” whatever we may make of these inadequate labels. Each of these views seems to line up with a fundamental commitment. The Kantian values authority and its dictates over all other considerations, including Tradition, which is not regarded as having normative and probative value. The Aristotelian works with multiple criteria, regarding the moral act as a complex of internal and external elements, which include, to be sure, authority and law, but also extend beyond them to natural law, precedent, custom, and discretion in a Benedictine sense. (The progressive, for his part, takes as a first principle the superiority of the future over the past: he assumes the inferiority, crudity, or corruptness of tradition, exalts the value of human science as a guide to original purity and contemporary need, and therefore tends to chafe at, if he does not violently attack, the restraints of former custom and current law.)

The first or Kantian approach suffers from a kind of mechanistic hollowness: one acknowledges a strict duty to an extrinsic principle but makes no room for the intrinsic principle of intelligence to interpret the situation and act appropriately.[3] That this cannot possibly work for the OF is evidenced by the fact that all kinds of decisions have to be made for which there is no provision in the rubrics (unlike in the usus antiquior, where the Church, drawing on the wisdom of centuries, has carefully specified what is to be done, allowing the celebrant to yield himself more freely to the rite in its perfection). This is why Msgr. Elliott’s Ceremonies of the Modern Roman Rite and Ceremonies of the Liturgical Year are such helpful books — and so hated by liberals. It draws upon the wealth of classical rubrics in order to give more dignity to the OF’s celebration. While it is nowhere near as daring as the Primer published at NLM, it still presupposes the same “classical liberal” attitude of doing what is in line with tradition.

Let me offer a concrete example. Whether the architects of the Novus Ordo disbelieved in transubstantiation or whether they understood the Real Presence in a heretical manner is a moot point; what is beyond dispute is that they suppressed practices that centuries of reverence for the Blessed Sacrament had prompted, and that this suppression has had the effect, in practice, of lessening both the clergy’s awareness of the awesomeness of the sacred mysteries they enact and the people’s faith in the Real Presence. A priest, therefore, possessed of good liturgical sense, understanding why a genuflection should be made immediately after the consecration, why the fingers are thenceforward to be held together, and why, during the ablutions, the fingers should be washed over the chalice with wine and water, will simply do all this as dignum et justum, the right and just thing to do. In this way he is more in keeping with the mind and will of the supreme legislator, who is obligated ex officio to preserve and promote both the liturgical tradition and maximum reverence towards the Body and Blood of Christ. In this way the legislator’s authentic intention is taken up and strengthened, whatever a particular legislator may have been thinking in his human frailty.

All this being said, the Aristotelian approach is advisable for a priest who is steeped in the tradition and thus will know how and when to bring traditional elements to the OF. In contrast, it is dangerous, one might say, for a priest who is operating from a flawed or piecemeal liturgical formation to attempt to apply epikeia, for he may introduce untraditional, unliturgical elements, again with the best of intentions.[4] To put the matter practically, the priest who will be most capable of exercising epikeia in the OF will be the one who is well-versed in the celebration and rubrics of the usus antiquior. Indeed, this was precisely the source of the Primer: its author is a priest who for years has offered both the traditional Mass in all three of its forms (Low, High, and Solemn) and the Ordinary Form within a hermeneutic of continuity.

There is no magisterial document on this “meta-question.” The Instruction Redemptionis Sacramentum and other documents say, of course, that the priest must be obedient to the rubrics, and that the faithful have a right to a liturgy that is celebrated according to them, etc., but both the Kantian and Aristotelian approaches already concur on this point. The confusion in the Latin Church today results, at least in part, from the importation of the antinomian culture of the 1960s into the very sanctuary, in the form of an open-ended liturgy with options, inculturations, adaptations, and a vastly impoverished code of rubrics. Whatever may be its social merits or demerits, antinomianism is an unsustainable liturgical philosophy. This is precisely why young clergy are eager for the kind of guidance offered them in Msgr. Elliott’s books and NLM’s Primer.

Ezekiel’s depiction of Israel — “you were cast out on the open field, for you were abhorred on the day that you were born; and when I passed by you, and saw you weltering in your blood, I said to you in your blood, ‘Live, and grow up like a plant of the field’” (Ezek 16:5–6) — might well remind us of the sorry spectacle of a liturgy so much depleted of sacrality, so much in need of growing up and joining the world of actual historical liturgies (if such a reunification is even possible — a theoretical question better left for another occasion). Naturally, clergy and laity who love Catholic tradition, and who are, in one way or another, confined to the use of the Ordinary Form, wish to do something about this problem of the loss of sacredness and the lack of appropriate rites and rubrics. We ought to recognize that there are various plausible and defensible solutions. One of them, as this article has argued, is to Say the Black and Do the Red with an epikeia that avails itself of traditional means by which the Black acquires a fuller resonance and the Red achieves a fuller dignity.

NOTES

[1] See Nicomachean Ethics, Book V, ch. 10, for Aristotle’s most complete treatment of this virtue.

[2] I say this somewhat tongue-in-cheek; my actual views on classical liberalism as a socio-political philosophy are well known. Suffice it to say that, following in the line of Gregory XVI, Pius IX, and Leo XIII, I am not a fan of it.

[3] The priest is an instrument or tool, but he is, as Aquinas says, an intelligent tool. That is, the Lord makes use of him according to his own nature as a rational animal.

[4] There are larger theoretical issues here, as well, that go beyond the scope of this article. On the one hand, those who designed the OF presumably wanted to revive some fantasy of a free-wheeling early Church liturgy with ex tempore prayers, but there was no thought of the liturgical formation that would be necessary for such virtuosity. Then, formation itself presupposes a specific liturgical tradition, whereas the OF and its options are eclectic between traditions. How is anyone supposed to know if this (mangled) set of Roman orations goes best with that (bowdlerized) Alexandrian Preface, or this or another chant in Latin, English, or Spanish? Prudent choice makes sense within a stable, coherent structure. This, again, is why the usus antiquior is the only possible guide to stabilizing and harmonizing the usus recentior.

A Primer for a Tradition-Minded Celebration of the OF Mass

Our thanks to Fr Richard Cipolla of St Mary’s Church in Norwalk, Connecticut, for sharing this article with our readers.

A PRIMER

For Priests who wish to use Mutual Enrichment to inject Tradition into the Novus Ordo Rite

If you are a priest of the Roman Rite, as of ten years ago today, you are officially “bi-formal”; you have almost completely free access to the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, as we now call it, in addition to the Ordinary Form.

Despite his shy and retiring character, Pope Benedict XVI braved a great deal of criticism, much of it very nasty, all of it completely unnecessary, to give you this gift, after devoting so much of his work to consideration of the Catholic Church’s liturgy problem. This was not only done so that you could respond more generously to the pastoral needs of the faithful, and especially the younger faithful, who are so eager to rediscover beauty and the sense of the sacred in public worship, although that it is certainly very important. It is no small matter, this liberty to fulfill what St John Paul II defined as the “rightful aspirations” of the faithful who love the traditional liturgy. However, it was also done to provide an important, indeed, a necessary point of reference for the future correction of the post-Conciliar liturgical form, since the need for such a correction is evident to all those who have eyes to see and ears to hear.

From last year’s All Saints and All Souls photopost, the OF Mass as it should be, at the Church of St Agnes in St Paul, Minnesota.

Since it seems likely that it will be a while before the “reform of the reform” can begin, what now needs to be done is to celebrate the Novus Ordo in a way that includes as much of the traditional Roman Rite as possible without disobeying its rubrics. The object of this Primer is to inject Tradition into the veins of the Novus Ordo as a preparation for its future reform in the next generation. We hope that these suggestions will fruitfully contribute to the “mutual enrichment” which Pope Benedict spoke of in the motu proprio Summorum Pontificum.

1. Say the vesting prayers every day. Always wear the maniple, the sign of the work of the priest. When using Roman vestments, cross the stole. Wear the biretta.

2. Always use the veil and burse for the chalice; a bare chalice is embarrassing and irreverent. Either have the veiled chalice on the altar before Mass or carry it in in the traditional way. On the way to the altar, recite Psalm 42 quietly.

3. The Mass must be celebrated ad orientem. This is the most important injection of the Tradition into the OF. To change the orientation is to eliminate the terrible novelty of saying Mass facing the people and the misunderstanding of the Mass that ensues from such a posture. Those who are pastors must, after proper catechesis in the parish, re-introduce the ancient and constant tradition of orientation of the celebrant facing liturgical East. Remember that the rubrics of the OF still assume that the priest is facing East, as, for example, to turn to the people at the Orate fratres. (For more details, see “The Normativity of Ad Orientem Worship According to the Ordinary Form’s Rubrics”.

4. When incense is used, the customary prayers of blessing should be said silently, thereby not breaking the rubric to say “nothing” at the blessing.

5. The Ordinary of the Mass (Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus, Agnus Dei) should be in their traditional languages and preferably sung to a simple chant. This injection of Greek and Latin into the Mass, even daily Mass, helps the people become comfortable with the uniform objectivity and universality that the use of Latin affords. The final blessing is another good place to introduce the use of Latin in the Mass.

6. Make the customary bows in the Gloria at adoramus te, gratias agimus, Jesu Christe, suscipe deprecationem, and make the sign of the Cross at the end.

7. The position of the hands at the Collect, at the Prayer over the Gifts and Post-Communion prayer, should be in the traditional form, never the outstretched arms that came into vogue in the 60s and 70s. Beware of making the traditional form too rigid.

8. The Responsorial Psalm is one of the least happy novelties of the reformed rite. Wherever possible, sing the psalm, or better yet, have a cantor sing the Gradual, which is an option listed in the General Instruction.

9. Memorize both prayers before the Gospel from the traditional rite and say those quietly.

10. At the Creed, make the customary bow at Jesum Christum, a deep bow at et incarnatus est, a bow at simul adoratur, and the Sign of the Cross at end.

11. At the Preparation of the Gifts, the berakah prayers that thank God for bread and wine must be said according to the rubrics. They should be said quietly before saying the traditional Offertory prayers silently, Suscipe sancte Pater for the bread and Offerimus tibi for the wine. It would seem that the water is not blessed according to the OF rubrics. Bow deeply at In spiritu humilitatis.

12. When censing the gifts, use the traditional three crosses and three circles. Memorize the prayers Dirigatur and Ascendat at the censing of the altar.

13. Memorize the Lavabo prayer at the washing of hands.

14. At the Orate Fratres use the “half-circle” movement. Turn to the right to face the people and then continue turning to face the book.

15. Make a profound bow at the Sanctus and bless yourself at the Benedictus.

16. THE CANON should be said audibly but quietly. God does not have to be shouted at, especially during this most sacred prayer of the Mass. At the beginning of the Roman Canon, use the traditional circular motion with your hands and bow profoundly at “Jesus Christ” so that this is as close to the traditional kissing of the altar as possible. Ignore the brackets after Andrew in the list of Apostles and always include all of the saints in the list beginning with John the Baptist. Before the consecration, wipe your thumbs and forefingers three times on the corporal. Genuflect both before and after you elevate the Sacred Host and the Precious Blood. Keep “digits” (thumb and forefinger joined) from after the consecration until the ablutions.

17. At the Our Father use same hand position as for the Collects.

18. Turn to the people for the Peace, and then turn back to the altar and begin the Agnus Dei.

19. When receiving the Host and Chalice, make the sign of the Cross with each before receiving. Memorize the prayers Panem caelestem and Quid retribuam and use them before consuming the Sacred Species.

20. Have the altar server ring the bell immediately after you have consumed the Sacred Species. This is important to let the people know that the Sacrifice is complete. The reformers deliberately moved the Ecce Agnus Dei to before the priest’s Communion to make it seem that the priest is just receiving Communion first before the people. The priest is not “receiving Communion”; he is completing the Sacrifice.

21. Always do the double ablutions, first only wine, holding the paten under your chin, and then wine and water, holding your joined thumb and forefinger over the chalice as the server pours the wine and water over them. When consuming the second ablution hold the purificator under your chin. Dry your fingers with the purificator, cleanse the chalice thoroughly, cover the chalice with the veil and place the corporal in the burse.

22. After the post-Communion prayer go to the foot of the altar and say the prayer to St Michael, followed by Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us, three times. Or, consider using the full suite of Leonine prayers: three Hail Marys; Hail, Holy Queen; the prayer for the Church; the St. Michael Prayer; and the threefold Sacred Heart invocation.

23. If possible say the Prologue to John en route to or in the sacristy after Mass.

For further reading, see also “Imbuing the Ordinary Form with Extraordinary Form Spirituality.”

Fr. Cipolla on: What is never planned by a committee

The full text of Fr. Richard Cipolla's sermon at the Extraordinary Form Mass at the Byrd Festival, blogged about here, is now posted online.

Here is an excerpt:

And so today we celebrate this Mass in what is now known as the extraordinary use of the Roman rite. That title is almost incomprehensible. But this Mass is extraordinary firstly because this is not what the ordinary parish church does at Mass. But it is truly extraordinary because it is precisely what has been given to the Church as that divine worship that is sacrifice and sacrament. It is precisely this Mass, the Mass of the Catholic tradition, the Mass of Gregory the Great, of Pius V, of Pius X, of Blessed John XXIII, that is the place where culture and leisure meet, this is the place where what makes leisure possible and what is its goal is found and experienced. This Mass is given to us, not made: it is given, and at the heart of that givenness is that Sacrifice that is at the heart of all worship, but here not sacrifice in general but the Sacrifice of the Son to the Father in the Holy Spirit, and this givenness is in the very physicality of the use of the senses: the chant that is not something one uses for some purpose like reducing stress but rather that is the distillation of prayer, as frolicking among the neumes; the polyphony that is like a waterfall that diffracts the words of the Ordinary into a contemplative rainbow: the Latin whose very state as a dead language allows mere words to transcend their literal meaning and to allow oneself to escape the prison of rational intellectualism and to taste the freedom of heaven; the ceremonial, archaic yet contemporary in the sense of engendering an understanding that goes beyond what liturgical research could ever tell us. And the silence, the silence, especially during the canon of the Mass, that allows us to participate at leisure and therefore actively, in the offering of the Holy Sacrifice.