Wednesday, March 26, 2025

Do Priests or Religious Need Special Permission to Pray a Pre-55 Breviary?

On occasion, I receive an email like the following (in this case, from a seminarian): “Do you happen to know of any sources/authoritative references which you could point me to that explain why praying the Pre-55 Breviary definitely satisfies the canonical obligation for clerics or religious? As I am strongly desirous of the Pre-55 Liturgy, I wanted to check all my p’s and q’s.” (The same question could be asked, mutatis mutandis, about taking up a pre-Pius X breviary as well.)

My Initial View

In the past, my standard line has been: There is no official statement that you can do this. If one can do it, it is because “what earlier generations held as sacred, remains sacred and great for us too, and it cannot be all of a sudden entirely forbidden or even considered harmful. It behooves all of us to preserve the riches which have developed in the Church’s faith and prayer, and to give them their proper place.” It can be done because it is the Church’s venerable and immemorial lex orandi. If you are confident that this is true, then you have sufficient certainty that by fulfilling the obligation as it was fulfilled by countless saints before you, you too are fulfilling it today, in a way that is supererogatory inasmuch as it goes above and beyond the minimum that is required by current law.

However, I thought it best to solicit a variety of opinions from experts. I will now share their responses. As you’ll see, opinions differ, but a certain majority consensus emerges.


Expert Opinion #1 (a secular priest from an Ecclesia Dei institute)

“I am a bit more cautious when it comes to using an older version of the Office than an older version of the Missal, because I see a distinction between, on the one hand, something being the public prayer of the Church and, on the other, something fulfilling a positive obligation imposed by the Church through the power of the keys.

“I would say that if one were to pray the Office using an older version, it would still be the public prayer of the Church. But because the obligation to recite the Divine Office and its binding under the pain of mortal sin is something produced by positive ecclesiastical law, if the requirements as set forth by the law are not fulfilled, then the penalty is incurred. This is different from the Missal as there is, in general, no obligation under penalty to celebrate Mass—an exception being if it is required for the faithful to fulfill an obligation of attendance. For example, I would say that if Pius X had decided that secular clergy or clergy with pastoral responsibilities were bound to recite only Lauds and Vespers, they would fulfill their obligation and avoid sin by doing so, while if they went beyond this, it would still be part of the public prayer of the Church.

“Touching on this topic, ‘Art. 9 §3 of the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum gives clerics the faculty to use the Breviarium Romanum in effect in 1962, which is to be prayed entirely and in the Latin language’ (Universae ecclesiae, 32). This expresses that the obligation can be fulfilled using the ’62 Breviary. This does not really answer the question definitively, but it might help shape the direction the discussion might go and the points which need to be considered in answer the question.”

Expert Opinion #2 (a Benedictine monk)

“Would the praying of the pre-55 Breviary constitute a mortal sin if ecclesiastical discipline established that one must pray the 1962 Breviary? Frankly, I think this is the sort of positivist nonsense that got us into trouble in the first place.

“The promise at ordination is to pray the Divine Office. Period. The Paul VI Liturgy of the Hours is so edited and short that I do not know how someone could possibly incur sin by saying the John XXIII breviary instead, as it is much longer and more demanding. (Imaginary confession: ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I have prayed 150 psalms in the Office this week rather than 62.25!’) So too, the older versions are still more demanding. (‘Bless me, Father, I have prayed the Octave of All Saints and enjoyed it! Can this really be a sin?’) Give me a break!

“In the early days of the Ecclesia Dei Commission, Cardinal Mayer was asked by a priest for permission to say the old breviary. His response was that no permission was needed because it is longer than the Breviary of Paul VI. Enough said. So too, the policy of positivism falls, for now Summorum Pontificum is abrogated. The Missal of 1962 is mandated by Summorum; yet it and all its predecessors are forbidden by Traditionis Custodes. Et cetera. Are we supposed to change our liturgical and devotional life with each new pontificate? Come on!

“If a seminarian wishes to pray more, let us thank God and concern ourselves with those who don’t pray the breviary at all.”


My response to the monk:

I am in full agreement. Thank you for your rant. Really, we should say this: The obligation of the cleric or religious is to honor God by praying the Divine Office, consisting of the psalms and other texts. As long as he is doing this in a manner “received and approved,” he is fulfilling that task.

However, it must be recognized that the stranglehold of legal positivism is very powerful, and St. Pius X mightily contributed to it with his over-the-top language when promulgating his own new breviary:

Therefore, by the authority of these letters, We first of all abolish the order of the Psaltery as it is at present in the Roman Breviary, and We absolutely forbid the use of it after the 1st day of January of the year 1913. From that day in all the churches of secular and regular clergy, in the monasteries, orders, congregations and institutes of religious, by all and several who by office or custom recite the Canonical Hours according to the Roman Breviary issued by St. Pius V and revised by Clement VIII, Urban VIII and Leo XIII, We order the religious observance of the new arrangement of the Psaltery in the form in which We have approved it and decreed its publication by the Vatican Printing Press. At the same time, We proclaim the penalties prescribed in law against all who fail in their office of reciting the Canonical Hours every day; all such are to know that they will not be satisfying this grave duty unless they use this Our disposition of the Psaltery.
          We command, therefore, all the Patriarchs, Archbishops, Bishops, Abbots and other Prelates of the Church, not excepting even the Cardinal Archpriests of the Patriarchal Basilicas of the City, to take care to introduce at the appointed time into their respective dioceses, churches or monasteries, the Psaltery with the Rules and Rubrics as arranged by Us; and the Psaltery and these Rules and Rubrics We order to be also inviolately used and observed by all others who are under the obligation of reciting or chanting the Canonical Hours. In the meanwhile, it shall be lawful for everybody and for the chapters themselves, provided the majority of the chapter be in favor, to use duly the new order of the Psaltery immediately after its publication.
          This We publish, declare, sanction, decreeing that these Our letters always are and shall be valid and effective, notwithstanding apostolic constitutions and ordinances, general and special, and everything else whatsoever to the contrary. Wherefore, let nobody infringe or temerariously oppose this page of Our abolition, revocation, permission, ordinance, precept, statue, indult, mandate and will. But if anybody shall presume to attempt this, let him know that he will incur the indignation of Almighty God, and of His Apostles, Sts Peter and Paul.
          Given at Rome at St. Peter’s in the year of the Incarnation of the Lord 1911, on November 1st, the Feast of All Saints, in the ninth year of Our Pontificate. 

So, it seems to me, there must be a theological rationale for maintaining that something like this decree is null and void from the get-go. Not that Pius X’s breviary is thereby invalidated or rendered illegal, but his attempt to prohibit all contrary customs no matter how venerable seems like it would have to be null and void, if we take serious the concept of tradition and do not think it is totally subject to the will of the reigning pontiff (cf. Benedict XVI’s comments about the limits of the pope’s authority: “The Pope is not an absolute monarch whose thoughts and desires are law.... The Pope knows that in his important decisions, he is bound to the great community of faith of all times...,” etc.). If Benedict XVI is right, then the “sacred and great” principle takes precedence over attempts to thwart it.

One may sympathize with the hesitation of clergy or religious to take the line: “I am expressly disobeying the dictate of Pope N. in doing what I’m doing, because it rests on deeper and better principles than his.” One would, at very least, need moral certainty that one had properly understood the nature of the obligation owed to tradition in contrast with that owed to papal legislation. I am reminded here of an exchange at the trial of St. Thomas More: “What, More, you wish to be considered wiser and of better conscience than all the bishops and nobles of the realm?” To which More replied, “My lord, for one bishop of your opinion I have a hundred saints of mine; and for one parliament of yours, and God knows of what kind, I have all the General Councils for 1,000 years, and for one kingdom I have France and all the kingdoms of Christendom.”

The monk’s reply:

“Yes, moral certainty is what one needs. But that comes easily enough when positive law twists and turns back on itself every few years. Pius X was a little over-the-top on authority, perhaps understandably so. Today, when authority changes the teaching of the Church on the definitive revelation of God in Christ, on marriage, on Holy Communion, on the death penalty, on the “blessability” of same-sex unions, etc., it is hard to say that using a fuller, older breviary can be considered grave matter, let alone mortal sin. Trads often lack ecclesial, historical and theological perspective, alas. Following rules—even stupid ones—is often easier than thinking.”


Expert Opinion #3 (diocesan priest and canon lawyer)

“At first glance, it would seem that the command to pray the office must be fulfilled by the use of an edition that has been promulgated and proposed for its fulfilment. From this perspective, only the Paul VI office or the John XXIII office would fulfil the obligation, especially from the vantage of ‘public prayer of the Church,’ i.e., not something done out of personal devotion.[i]

“However, while it is true that the legislation (in Summorum Pontificum Art. 9 n. 3) only specifically mentions the 1962, I still think there is room for the pre-conciliar breviary. Two aspects argue in favor of this: antinomy and lacuna legis.

“Some would argue that this matter falls into an issue of antinomy—two laws or norms belonging to the same juridical ordering, which take place in the same space and attribute incompatible legal consequences to a certain factual situation, which prevents their simultaneous application; in other words, a factual situation with two or more legal consequences that are incompatible because of two rules. So, one might look for a ‘legislative silence’ that would speak in favor of the freedom to use an older breviary. Silence is of far greater canonical value than most people realize.

“Moreover, a failure to specifically proscribe the recitation of the pre-55 breviary would lend support to its use based on the well-established canonical practice of respecting custom; indeed, the elucidation of this issue should be based on analogous situations, e.g., what happens with the missal. Even in this iconoclastic period we are living in, the Church has allowed the use of pre-’62 ceremonies, and even though there is no obligation to celebrate Holy Mass, nevertheless, one could say that the (at times) explicit and (at other times) implicit approval of pre-’62 ceremonies suggests that the breviary could also fall into this approval, even with silence on the subject.

“I would also argue that odious and dishonest things are not to be presumed in law, and since the prayer of an older, at one time normative breviary is certainly not odious, and the use of it in no way bespeaks a desire to contravene the mens legislatoris, one could in good conscience pray the pre-55 breviary.

“Furthermore, I would add that in the modern legislation for the preconciliar liturgy—Summorum Pontificum, Traditionis Custodes, etc.—there is no explicit prohibition of the use of the earlier breviaries, and one could argue that this falls into the well-established legal principle of ‘odiosa sunt restringenda, favores sunt amplianda’: odious laws—in other words, those that restrict a right or freedom—must be interpreted strictly, in favor of those who are subject to them; while favorable laws must be interpreted broadly.

“Finally, we should take into consideration the actual state of affairs in the mess of the postconciliar world. After Vatican II, monastic communities were allowed to experiment and make up their own divine office. You can find this out by visiting almost any community at random: they are all doing different things. There is a principle in the Church: ‘office for office.’ I was visiting an abbey in another country and I noticed that their monastic office was different. I wondered aloud to the prior if praying it would suffice to fulfill my obligation, and he said: ‘office for office,’ meaning, I could substitute the office prayed in common in the abbey for the office I would have prayed from the breviary (so, their morning prayer for my morning prayer, etc.). I do not know how far this notion of ‘office for office’ could be taken, but it seems to suggest that the Church regards it as sufficient if a priest or religious offers the daily round of prayers and praises in any accepted (or even tolerated) form.”


Expert Opinion #4 (another Benedictine)

“I was not convinced by the Benedictine’s first opinion. When he calls the priest’s opinion ‘legal positivism,’ is he denying that this is a matter of positive law? Or is he saying that even though it is a matter of positive law, it should be obvious that this particular law (requiring the Pius X office or the ’62 office) is beyond the authority of the legislator?

As far as I can see, the only real argument he gives (in his first response) is that the old office is much longer than that of Paul VI. To me, this is not convincing. If I am bound by a lawful superior to go to Texas, I don’t fulfill my duty by going to China on the grounds that it is a harder trip. The comparison is not simply ‘more’ in the sense that option 2 includes everything option 1 includes, plus some. That would be different. For the question is not, can a priest pray the whole Paul VI office and then pray the pre-’55 in addition, but rather, can he replace the one with the other? If the Church is a visible body with a visible head who has a real legislative authority, one must allow that positive laws can exist and should be obeyed, even when they are bad laws (I don’t mean sinful, but just mistaken or dumb, or otherwise flawed).

“The monk’s second reply (to your implied objection from Pius X) is more to the point. As far as I can see, the moral certainty that we can stick to the old stuff arises predominantly from the evidence that the new stuff is not simply ‘less,’ or that it does away with a 1,000-year-old tradition, but that it is really somehow against the faith. I don’t mean that the breviary itself of Paul VI contains heresies. Rather, I think one can look at the whole shebang since Vatican II, look at the current pontificate, and reasonably conclude that there is an evil and anti-Catholic trend which encompasses, more or less clearly, all the reforms in the past several decades. The result would be a strong doubt about the obligation to comply, and at least a reasonable guess that sticking to pre-reform prayer is safe, despite what the pope says.

“I don’t want to downplay the importance of tradition, but the fact stands that there is no clear teaching (as far as I know) about the limits of papal authority. For instance, we have no council that says ‘if anyone says a pope can change a tricentennial liturgical custom, let him be anathema.’ And, in fact, the texts we do have tend in the opposite direction.

“As far as I can see, there is no way to know with certainty that Pius X overstepped his authority and that his decree was null. And, as a side note, I am not convinced that this is a purely post-Vatican I problem either. Gregory VII tried aggressively to replace the Mozarabic liturgy with the Roman Liturgy, invoking his papal right to do so. At the same time, I think there is a good deal of evidence to reasonably conclude—notice, I do not say conclude with certainty—that the traditions prior to Vatican II can be safely used, based on the overwhelming evidence that the Church has tended in an anti-Catholic direction since that time.

“The diocesan canonist’s opinion is more convincing to me as well, but for different reasons. It acknowledges that this is a matter of positive law but seeks to answer the question within the framework of positive law. I am not qualified to assess the argument canonically but it seems reasonable. As the aforementioned moral argument is sufficient (in my mind at least), I don’t really bother with trying to find solutions within the letter of the law.”


My response to the last (and in general):

I think the logically possible approaches are well summarized in the expert opinions 1, 2, and 3.

Does a pope have authority to require a certain form of prayer? I think the question is ambiguous. If the form he requires represents a radical break with the form required for centuries and centuries, then we might have a problem on our hands—one that could result in a true crisis of conscience. This is where the fateful combination of legal positivism and ever-expanding ultramontanism presses comes in, for the question is rendered easy if you say the pope has absolute authority over everything liturgical (except for a highly distilled “form and matter” of sacraments), and that the only duty of the subordinate to obey his will (or his whims).

But since this is not the way the Church has behaved throughout her history—in fact, it is the opposite of the way she has behaved—and there are sound theological, anthropological, and moral reasons to think that this cannot be right, one may arrive at the position of the Benedictine monk who says it is absurd to believe that praying a traditional “received and approved” form of the liturgy could be wrong, or ruled out as sinful.

The Texas/China analogy fails because, in fact, we are talking about different forms or versions of the same thing, namely, the divine office by which the hours of the day are to be sanctified through the recitation of psalms and prayers. A form that is both more ancient and more extensive would satisfy a requirement that one must do something of the same kind that is more recent and more restricted. The only way it could be maintained that a later form must replace an earlier form is if there was something wrong with the earlier form.

Indeed, this is why, when Urban VIII changed all the breviary hymn language, the religious communities (Benedictines, Cistercians, Dominicans, some others too) simply begged off and said they were content with the language of the hymns as they existed in their own offices. The new language and the old could exist side-by-side. Nor did that pope, or any other, dare to force the matter. That’s because there once was respect for autonomy and diversity, as opposed to now, when everyone talks about these things but no one actually respects them.

The fact that there is no explicit statement that the pope cannot cancel out “received and approved rites” of venerable standing is because it would have seemed ridiculous to our forebears to think that he could. You might remember the episode at Vatican I:

Now before the final vote on Pastor Aeternus at Vatican I, several Council Fathers were concerned that they would be voting for a doctrine that would give the pope absolute and unqualified jurisdictional authority. Various (documented) discussions were given by members of the Deputation of the Faith assuring the Council Fathers that this was not a correct understanding of the doctrine. That is, they (the Relators of the Deputation) stated that the pope, in his jurisdictional authority, does not have absolute and unqualified jurisdictional authority. One Council Father, however, an American named Bishop Verot of Savannah, apparently was not convinced, and requested that specific qualifying statements (to the effect that the pope’s jurisdictional authority is qualified) be inserted into the texts of the schemas. He was told that the Council Fathers had not come to Rome “to hear buffooneries.” In other words, if this bishop had understood the theological context of the schema, he would not have put himself in such an embarrassing situation. (Brill, Great Sacred Music Reform, 47n25)
I rather regret that it seemed so obvious to the fathers of Vatican I, because I think the qualifying language that Bishop Verot wanted would have been exceedingly useful at present. Of course, when the German bishops got around to explaining Vatican I to Prussia, they did add a number of valuable clarifications, though again, their document suffers from vagueness (just what does “human arbitrariness” amount to? What does it look like? How do we know it when we see it?—assuredly, it seems that today we know it when we see it, because popes have gone so far off the deep end in this or that instance). I tried to bring some clarity to this topic in my lecture “The Pope’s Boundedness to Tradition as a Legislative Limit: Replying to Ultramontanist Apologetics.” Fr. Réginald-Marie Rivoire also discusses this point in his tract Does “Traditionis Custodes” Pass the Juridical Rationality Test? (to which the answer is, no).

Now, if it could be shown that anything demanded by a pope was contrary to the faith or to sound morals, that in itself would be a reason to say no to it and to stick with what was there before. This, evidently, is what we must do with something like Amoris Laetitia. But it seems also true to say that if something demanded by a pope is followed by a period of uninterrupted institutional chaos or decline, it becomes suspect by that very fact; or (perhaps this is to say the same thing) that in a period of institutional chaos or decline, it is legitimate to maintain the “status quo ante,” much as Lefebvre maintained that he realized he had to stick with the missal prior to the deformations of the 1960s that led to the Novus Ordo of 1969. (Sadly, neither he nor the Society has ever quite figured out that the changes in the 1950s were part of the same process of deformation, and therefore should have been rejected for exactly the same reason. It was the same people with the same principles who were behind both phases, before and after the Council.)

This is really all the light I have, and it may not be much. It seems to me that at this time in particular, when the postconciliar autodemolition of the Church is plain for all to see, there is no reason to doubt anymore that the liturgical revolution—which had its ill-starred conception in Pius X’s hyperpapalist revamp of the breviary, its ominous childhood in Pius XII’s rewriting of Holy Week, and its monstrous adulthood in the ruptures of Paul VI—is something that cannot be of God, cannot be truly “of the Church,” and cannot be for the good of souls.

Granted, each stage is worse than the one before, such that, as I argue in chapter 12 of Once and Future Roman Rite, there are fewer objections one can make to earlier stages and more to later ones, which also implies that adhering to the earlier is less problematic than adhering to the latter (e.g., praying the breviary of Pius X is not as bad as using the Holy Week of Pius XII, and using the Holy Week of Pius XII is not as bad as using the missal of Paul VI). But since there is a real continuity of principles, one is fully justified in taking the whole series as a single process, and saying, as a matter of coherent traditionalism: I will pray the breviary and the missal as they existed prior to this revolutionary process.

Benedictines are fortunate in this regard, as they have the unchanged cursus psalmorum of St. Benedict, nice editions of their choir books, and an altar missal from the first half of the 20th century. All this is “ready to go” in a way that makes the Roman situation look terribly messy by comparison. That’s why I’m not surprised that a number of secular clergy have become or seek to become Benedictine oblates: it gives them a direct channel to a full set of traditional liturgical books still in use in a fair number of abbeys in communion with the Holy See.
 
NOTE

[i] A clause in Rubricarum instructum of Pope John XXIII seems intended to close the lid on the issue (mind you, only for those with an obligation to the Divine Office): no. 3, “Item statuta, privilegia, indulta et consuetudines cuiuscumque generis, etiam saecularia et immemorabilia, immo specialissima atque individua mentione digna, quae his rubricis obstant, revocantur.” However, the pope left an exclusion clause in no. 3: “quae his rubricis obstant.” What exactly this amounts to would need further investigation.

Sunday, January 05, 2025

Morello on Rationalism as Part of Modernity’s Anti-Liturgical Hex

Early in December, Os Justi Press released Sebastian Morello’s Mysticism, Magic, and Monasteries: Recovering the Sacred Mystery at the Heart of Reality. The following 2-minute video sums up its main points:

The book is full of rich reflections on the thought and culture of antiquity, the Middle Ages, and modernity, and the spiritual and liturgical implications of the shifts. Rather than attempt a mere summary, I thought I might offer some quotations chosen specially for NLM readers.

« Part of adopting a premodern mind is first acknowledging that every people in history has accepted that our world is a world pregnant with magical forces and the activity of spiritual beings. And Christianity has never denied that curses, hexes, and many kinds of evil spells exist, or that evil spirits can be contacted and succumbed to, in order to attain evil ends. So too, Christians—alongside their practices of meditation and contemplation—have ever believed in sacred magic, or “theurgy,” but they have held that such magic possesses the power to conquer demons and sacralise the world only when united to the eternal and singular priesthood of Jesus Christ, and to this baptised theurgy Christians have given the name of liturgy. This brings us to the great political work to which Christians ought to be dedicated, namely the endeavour to establish liturgical nations in fraternal union with each other, for the alternative to such a civilisation is the accursed dominion in which nations are first fragmented and then dissolved altogether in the grey mass of a diabolical slave settlement. » (p. 4)

« The pre-eminence of the mystical life understood not as spiritual ascent out of the created order, but rather as embodied induction into shared life with a personal God who meets us in the world that is an emanation of His own inner life, is emphasised by me largely because I observe that in the epoch of ideology—namely, modernity—we have lost a sense of the existentiality and immanence of the Sacred Mystery. Tragically, this spiritual blindness has encroached on many aspects of religious devotion and piety. In turn, religion is understood ever less as ongoing transformation through the liturgical and sacramental life, and it is instead understood as mere intellectual assent to doctrinal propositions and spiritual ascent away from the concrete reality in which we find ourselves. Religion is hence tacitly reframed for a people formed by virtual reality lived from an online existence. Unfortunately, such a life is no life at all. And the upshot is the reduction of Christianity, or whatever we mean by Christianity today, to a base species of ideology, just one among a plethora of squabbling ideologies in the modernist arena of competing “systems.” » (p. 11)

« I dare say we must rediscover our liturgy as a baptised form of “theurgy,” a term largely gone from Christian theology today, but one that was repeatedly deployed to discuss Christian worship by such an eminent authority as St. Dionysius the Areopagite. By Christian theurgy, I mean the fulfilment of all religious sacrifice, during which those offering the sacrifice commune with the divine spirits and call God down into the inner chamber as they chant the sacred words and perform the sacred rituals. » (pp. 38-39)

« Latin Christians have long emphasised “assent,” and hence the possession of ideas, over existential transformation through right worship (an emphasis that has only swelled due to the unexamined acceptance of the rationalist paradigm). It is unsurprising, then, that serious Catholicism is more likely to be found online— where ideas are offered and bought up— than in the local church. And those Catholics who have retained the organic conception of the Church as the institution that gifts to the baptised the virtues of right relationality with God—a conception of the Christian as a liturgical creature—have for some time now been actively persecuted by the incumbents of the Church’s highest offices. Such Catholics are seen as betrayers of the modern project of Enlightened man, whom the Church’s leaders have enthroned in their demotion of Christ the King. And in seeing such Catholics in this way, the Church’s government is entirely correct. » (p. 66)

« Whenever I step foot onto Benedictine grounds, I feel as if I have come home. The chanting of the psalms, the sacrifice offered on the altars, the way of life lived under a Rule that’s over a millennium and a half old— all the sacrality of these abbeys seems to have seeped into the stones themselves. Even after all the scandals, the collapse in vocations, and the ruination of the liturgy following that unhappy Vatican Council that baptised the fleeting fever of the 1960s— from which it will take many, many centuries for the Church to recover— the monasteries still appear as loci of divine grace, by which little parts of the diabolical principality we call the world has been captured and placed under Christ’s kingship.» (pp. 97-98)

« In late modernity, the Church’s supreme office, the papacy, got its first middle-class pope, when hitherto this office had been occupied only by nobles and peasants. Pope Paul VI had all the characteristics of a middle-class manager. He was a social climber with a sympathy for tabula rasa ways of governing. Just as the bourgeoisie, with their privileging of ideas over realities—and their pathological impulse, rooted in rationalism, to conform the latter to the former—had overseen every modern revolution, so too Pope Paul oversaw an analogous revolution in the Church. He reduced the sacred liturgy from a mystical conduit of grace expressed in a sacred language to a vernacularised, didactic exercise to entertain a new, educated population.» (pp. 109-10)

« Tragic it is, then, that the Church’s current hierarchical incumbents seem, generally speaking, to be neither elders themselves nor to love their elders. They appear as frustrated rascals who have undergone all the humane development and civilisational induction of Tolkien’s orcs. Perhaps this ought not to surprise us. After all, the men who fill the Church’s higher offices today were all formed in the crucible of the Second Vatican Council’s progressive theology, and their intellectual habits were fashioned by daily exposure to the so- called liturgical “reform.” The “experts” who subjected the Church’s liturgical heritage to ongoing experimentation did so on the grounds that it was somehow legitimate to call into question— and redact or even reject altogether— huge swathes of prayer and mystical experience inherited from our ancestors in religion, the sum total of elder-wisdom in ritual form. The very Council, then, that claimed power to renew the Church’s youth in fact emptied the churches, and by so doing it aged the Church rapidly, in turn aging the civilisation she once animated.... And this process of aging the Church, far from recovering her charism as the Great Elder of our civilisation, merely rendered her decrepit.» (p. 124)

In the midst of his critique Morello examines the paths of and conditions for renewal or regeneration in the Church, and offers very concrete advice for how tradition-loving Catholics struggling with the hierarchy and the postconciliar devastation can strengthen their faith, love, and perseverance.

N.B.
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Monday, October 14, 2024

“Other Things Being… Equal”? A Critique of Sacrosanctum Concilium 116

The following guest essay was written by Garrett Meyer. For many years, defenders of Gregorian chant have leaned heavily into Sacrosanctum Concilium, and there can be no doubt that the drafters of its chapter on sacred music were indeed committed to the primacy of chant. However, Meyer challenges us to rethink the implications of the phrase “ceteris paribus” and to ask whether this was not, in fact, a gentle kiss of death.—PAK

While discussing the liturgical reform with me in the Letters of New Polity Winter 2022 Issue, Dr. Marc Barnes held a mirror in front of traditional Catholics to reveal the liberals. They seem “to stomach the Holy Church insofar as it can be baked into the basic hero of North American liberalism: a hidden authenticity smothered by an oppressive, institutional body.” [1] This might be a fair critique of the cranky Catholics who just want to be left alone to their liturgical preferences, but it misses a contingent of traditionalists (likely overlapping with New Polity readers) who grumble against the hierarchs for not restricting their “authenticity” enough.

Rebels Because They Are Without a Cause

Catholics have become liberals, as it were, all the way up. We have all been “oppressed” with freedom (of the liberal sort) since at least Vatican II, if not the Fall. Religious freedom gets all the headlines, but sacred music suffers as well from what we might call inverted smothering. While a superficial reading of Sacrosanctum Concilium §116 [2] suggests otherwise, Catholics are indeed forced to refuse Gregorian chant true pride of place [3] in liturgical services. Let us carefully read every word of this disputed article:

The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as specially suited to the Roman liturgy: therefore, other things being equal, it should be given pride of place in liturgical services.

When deploying Vatican II to boost Gregorian chant, conservative Catholics almost always omit the phrase, “other things being equal.” Barnes, to his credit, defends this clause with full-throated gravitas. For him, it belongs to “the nature of the Church, the people of God at liberty, by Grace, to determine whether or not other things are, indeed, equal.” [4] This is not the only instance of Barnes identifying the Church’s mission as something unusual—I’m looking at you, “Hats Off” [5]—but at least the act of hatting admits of many metaphorical meanings. The same cannot be said for determining-the-equality-of-other-things. Try finding a single synonym.

This phrase, ceteris paribus in Latin, is neither scholastic nor patristic nor biblical, but comes from liberal economic theory. [6] It is strange for Vatican II to slip in the expression, and stranger still for Barnes to double down on it. From John Stuart Mill [7] to Investopedia.com [8] to even the farmers Beth and Shawn Dougherty [9], it is applied to an economic law as a qualifier. It means that the pertinent rule only perfectly holds in a model, for it requires conditions to be so static that it would be unusual if the rule simply held true in relentlessly-dynamic reality. Even if “other things are equal” now, they never stay that way. The use of ceteris paribus thus reveals not just a simplification, but an oversimplification.

To show this, suppose that you are on a field trip for your economics class. You go out to a local farmer’s market, or car dealership, or megacorp boardroom. You see friends disregarding the sticker price and enemies insisting upon it. You return to your instructor and shout, “The law of supply and demand is no law at all!” He condescends to comfort you, saying, “My dear, dear child. The principle only applies ‘other things being equal’—and they were not.”

When it comes to Vatican II and SC §116, some Catholic commentators inflect the phrase differently, saying that the liturgical law holds even if other things are equal, not only if. In their minds, ceteris paribus is an insufficient disqualification, not a necessary precondition. Gregorian chant should thus always (or at least normally) hold pride of place.[10] Barnes’s co-authored “Manifesto of the New Traditionalism” seems to interpret things just this way: “According to the very constitution initiating these reforms, the Sacred Liturgy should emphasize … Gregorian chant.” [11] The Manifesto then laments, “How rarely this is accomplished!” and calls the liturgical reform “betrayed” (by whom it does not say). [12]

But in his New Polity letter, Barnes changes tack. He stresses that one should not be offended if “the people of God at liberty” determine that Gregorian chant deserves demotion, precisely because of ceteris paribus. The reason that he appears a conservative in one instance, and a progressive the next, is not that he is flip-flopping. Indeed, he is one of the most radically consistent men which I have had the pleasure to meet. His honesty is indeed why I do not quite believe his gracious excuse for my own rash misreading—namely, that he co-wrote a document which misrepresented his own views, a slipup made possible because he “is not, say, a bishop in council.” [13] He would not sign something he did not believe, and he would retract it if he did. With great trepidation, therefore, I accuse Barnes of dancing around on the stage of liberalism, instead of his happier pastime (and greatly needed service) of ripping it up plank-by-plank.

Here is my evidence: If you grant that ceteris paribus in SC §116 means anything at all, then you are already a liberal. For you have made the deserved place of Gregorian chant not a consequence of its inner nature, but an imposition (however benevolent) from without. Progressives maintain that the environments which afford Gregorian chant pride of place are rare, conservatives complain that they are common, and Barnes is content so long as the Church determines them. But no group questions that ontologically violent presupposition which says that the honor due to a thing flows not from what it is, but only from what the context makes it. Should Gregorian chant be given pride of place in liturgical services of the Roman Rite? The postliberal says, “yes,” while the liberal says, “it depends.”


From Sensus Fidelium to Magisterium

This is the more believable interpretation of SC §116, not just because of the aforementioned etymology and my testimony (as well as my once-corrected-but-still-surely-incomplete interpretation of Barnes). [14] It just makes more sense of the historical data. What did Catholics by-and-large do from 1969 to this day? A few one-off parishes continue to plainchant [15], but the rest promptly and completely forgot all of it—that is to say, a liberal prescription was applied liberally in a liberal world. I was delighted that a simple tone Salve Regina broke out one night of the inaugural New Polity conference. Barnes and I seem to agree that this was an oddity among collections of Catholic men because of SC §116, not despite it. [16]

Our common ground, however, quickly gives way to questions which neither Barnes nor I can answer. What are these “other things” which must be equal for Gregorian chant to deserve pride of place? “Equal” to what? How close is close enough to constitute equality? How frequently must we check? Who decides? Thankfully, we lay Catholics are not on our own in interpreting the passage. The most extensive exegesis from the Magisterium comes the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops in 2007:

73. The “pride of place” given to Gregorian chant by the Second Vatican Council is modified by the important phrase “other things being equal.” These “other things” are the important liturgical and pastoral concerns facing every bishop, pastor, and liturgical musician. In considering the use of the treasures of chant, pastors and liturgical musicians should take care that the congregation is able to participate in the Liturgy with song. They should be sensitive to the cultural and spiritual milieu of their communities, in order to build up the Church in unity and peace. [17]

This may feel more solid, but, intentionally or not, the ambiguity remains. The bishops could be implying that only Gregorian chant allows a congregation to participate with song in the Roman Rite; that it alone responds sensitively to the depraved cultural and parched spiritual milieu of our communities; and that it is uniquely capable of building up Church unity. However “based” the kids might find this interpretation, it is a strained one. If it were true, the “pride of place” given to Gregorian chant would not need to be “modified” in the first place. [18] Rather, our bishops most likely anticipated Gregorian chant as an obstacle to the full participation of the faithful, an insensitivity to modern needs, and a disturbance of the peace, and so duly qualified it to impotence.

We cannot blame the USCCB if, in their equivocal statements, they allow Gregorian chant to be considered a stumbling block. Certainly, they needed to accommodate the unequivocal statements of Pope Saint Paul VI. In 1969, six years after Sacrosanctum Concilium and just prior to the promulgation of the Novus Ordo, Paul VI gave a frank address to the pious people disturbed most by the impending changes:

8. It is here that the greatest newness is going to be noticed, the newness of language. No longer Latin, but the spoken language will be the principal language of the Mass. The introduction of the vernacular will certainly be a great sacrifice for those who know the beauty, the power and the expressive sacrality of Latin. We are parting with the speech of the Christian centuries; we are becoming like profane intruders in the literary preserve of sacred utterance. We will lose a great part of that stupendous and incomparable artistic and spiritual thing, the Gregorian chant.

9. We have reason indeed for regret, reason almost for bewilderment. What can we put in the place of that language of the angels? We are giving up something of priceless worth. But why? What is more precious than these loftiest of our Church's values?

10. The answer will seem banal, prosaic. Yet it is a good answer, because it is human, because it is apostolic.

11. Understanding of prayer is worth more than the silken garments in which it is royally dressed. Participation by the people is worth more—particularly participation by modern people, so fond of plain language which is easily understood and converted into everyday speech. [19]
Notice what Paul VI is and is not asserting here. He did not want Gregorian chant to simply stop being sung. Indeed, in 1974, he sent a booklet with some of the easiest chants to every bishop in the world for the edification of the faithful. [20] His sacrifice was much more subtle. Paul VI redefined Gregorian chant to be an impediment to modern man, in lieu of precisely what modern man, once converted, was to sing. The ancient custom was no longer a tradition, to be faithfully received and passed down, but a left-handed tool that no longer suited the understanding or participation of a right-handed world. Gregorian chant could still be sung within the Roman Rite, but no longer as the Roman Rite.

Paul VI rhetorically asked, “If the divine Latin language kept us apart from the children, from youth, from the world of labor and of affairs, if it were a dark screen, not a clear window, would it be right for us fishers of souls to maintain it as the exclusive language of prayer and religious intercourse?” [21] This question assumes the worldview of the world, wherein “divine” things can bar bishops from helping the rest of men. In granting this anti-Incarnational premise, Paul VI trusted not in the philosophy of Aristotelian-Thomism, but of Coca-Cola.


Seeing Our Nakedness

Within fourteen months of Paul VI’s self-professed “grave change” [22], Coca-Cola and ad agency executives hatched one of the most famous television advertisements of all time. [23] They wrote: “On a hilltop in Italy, we assembled young people from all over the world…” to sing these lilting words:
I’d like to buy the world a home
And furnish it with love
Grow apple trees and honey bees
And snow white turtle doves
I’d like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to buy the world a Coke
And keep it company.

It’s the real thing. Coke is…what the world wants today. [24]
The advertisement presents attractive youth of all sexes, races, and dress united in Italy (of all places!) by one creed, actively participating in a perfectly intelligible English song about a soft drink. This is the diabolical inversion of the vision of Isaiah:
And in the last days the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be prepared on the top of mountains, and it shall be exalted above the hills, and all nations shall flow unto it. (Isaiah 2, 2)

From its fleeting molehill of monetary profit, the world mercilessly mocked the Church as failing to accompany the young, failing to unite the common man, and failing to understand “the real thing.” And Paul VI in some sense agreed.

With the blame squarely cast upon Latin, Paul VI’s solution was not to replace Gregorian chant with any one genre. The sacrificial victim becomes holy by the very law of God, and no other goat can be substituted for the scapegoat. [25] Rather, he presumed that dethroning Gregorian chant as the chief musical expression of Roman Catholicism would clear the way for a democratic invigoration of the entire religion. In the same 1974 booklet advocating for a “minimum repertoire of plain chant,” the Vatican encouraged bishops to encourage the musically-inclined to pick up the slack:

When vernacular singing is concerned, the liturgical reform offers “a challenge to the creativity and the pastoral zeal of every local church.” Poets and musicians are therefore to be encouraged to put their talents at the service of such a cause, so that a popular chant may emerge which is truly artistic, is worthy of the praise of God, of the liturgical action of which it forms part and of the faith which it expresses. [26]

After 50 years, I compare the glory of Gregorian chant, just now being rediscovered, with the “popular chant” that Paul VI attempted to summon into existence, and wonder if a mistake was made. Paul VI sacrificed a real thing to first allow, then “challenge,” then require his flock to invent a new thing. Thus, he could not praise the tradition as such, but only insofar as it historically served the private goals of understanding and participation—goals which, in his mind, were far better served today by the chosen genres of “every local parish.”

The immediate successor to Paul VI, Pope John Paul II, came tantalizingly close in 2003 to reinstating Gregorian chant as the template for sacred music. He said:

12. With regard to compositions of liturgical music, I make my own the “general rule” that St Pius X formulated in these words: “The more closely a composition for church approaches in its movement, inspiration and savour the Gregorian melodic form, the more sacred and liturgical it becomes; and the more out of harmony it is with that supreme model, the less worthy it is of the temple”. [27]

Though this rule is made “general” (scare quotes per the Vatican website), it remains shockingly illiberal. Gregorian chant itself—down to its simple, monophonic, free-rhythm “melodic form”—is held up as the exemplary cause of all sacred music. If John Paul II had extended his quotation of Pope Saint Pius X, he would have effectively abrogated SC §116: “The ancient traditional Gregorian Chant must, therefore, in a large measure be restored to the functions of public worship.” [28]

But John Paul II did not say this. Instead, he continued:

It is not, of course, a question of imitating Gregorian chant but rather of ensuring that new compositions are imbued with the same spirit that inspired and little by little came to shape it. [29]
Anyone seeking a return to Gregorian chant as such is thus rebuffed by a fiery sword. We can even imagine John Paul II as lamenting this exile, but he admits no power to end it. In this new world, “of course” the plain meaning of Pius X’s rule cannot hold. The “spirit” of Gregorian chant remains to be imitated, but its sharply distinguished letter has been relegated to out of the question.

Lament for paradise lost can easily give way to anger at the intransigence of “restorers.” How dare someone today compose a new free rhythm Gradual? Who lacks the pastoral heart or musical skill to go beyond merely “imitating Gregorian chant”? A man can press on and still sing a plain old Sanctus XVIII, but no longer is he doing so in humble obedience to Rome. Instead, it is borderline selfishness, filling the air with a dead language that few—perhaps not even he!—understands. If Gregorian chant itself is opposed to modern man’s active participation, then how much more so a lofted Latin schola which includes only the diligent or the talented?
 

The Fate of Tradition After 1776

The victory of liberalism over Roman sacred music comes into view. Gregorian chant appears no longer good for the whole body of Christ. Instead, it is of varying degrees of usefulness to individual Christians in each’s musical quest to understand and participate. It is hard for me, American that I am, not to see this as the outworkings of the American Revolution.

In The Politics of the Real, D.C. Schindler proposes that the Declaration of Independence installed “ ‘Nature’s God’ as the sovereign principle of the new political order. This is a God defined specifically abstracted from any particular, i.e., actual, tradition so as to be potentially available to any and all of them.” [30] What Schindler says of the American Revolution and traditions broadly construed seems to apply, with only slight tailoring, to Vatican II and sacred music:
It represents the liberation of all possibilities, the inclusiveness of all possible traditions and cultures—within certain minimal constraints (the tradition one chooses for oneself cannot disrupt the public order, it cannot threaten public safety, it cannot harm others or exclude their own cultural expressions.) The point is that all of the contents of tradition can be affirmed, but now only in a new form, as not traditional, no longer representing something that precedes me as an authority and entails a claim on me prior to any choice I might make. All traditions are welcome—indeed, the greater diversity of traditions the better, since a single tradition would inexorably tend to take on a traditional form. But they are welcome only as “neutralized,” as various species of “tradition” in general that present themselves now as objects of choice, submitted to the only actual authority in play—reason as exercised by the private individual. [31]
It may be the case that Schindler’s argument can only hold because Roman Catholicism and liberalism are each totalizing forms, while Gregorian chant is not. Pope Boniface VIII declared, stated, and defined that “it is absolutely necessary for salvation that every human creature be subject to the Roman Pontiff,” [32] not “that every human creature sing Tantum Ergo.” But we should expect that if liberalism is, in fact, a societal form, it is re-presented fractally within every subdomain of human activity, and analogies from subworld to world can hold water.

In the analogy, the SC §116 places Gregorian chant in the same liberal domain as the Declaration places the true God. A pastor cannot settle the liturgy wars—as a true authority could—because he himself is recast as just one more private individual taking a side. These wars have resulted in statistically less Gregorian chant, instead of more, because Gregorian chant fails to meet Paul VI’s new “minimal constraints”: music cannot disrupt public participation (analogous to order) nor threaten public understanding (analogous to safety).

Each citizen within a parish’s boundaries (not just the fraction that attend Mass) has similar veto power over traditional music in the sanctuary as he does over religious direction in the neutral public square. In both cases, this veto is made stronger by his absence, since a music minister or state representative can more easily indict custom by pointing to an empty chair than to a man. Once living, breathing people are involved, piety sometimes wins.

Coming to the present day, it seems that Pope Francis has reaffirmed the private ability to negate tradition and neglected the corporate strength required to live it. In revoking Summorum Pontificum, Francis indicated that bishops should “discontinue the erection of new personal parishes tied more to the desire and wishes of individual priests than to the real need of the ‘holy People of God.’ ” [33] Francis frames the Traditional Latin Mass, so intimately bound to Gregorian chant, as nothing more than a hobby of individual priests that today competes with the unity of the Church. Anyone who maintains love for it is thereby suspected of schism. Barnes himself makes no excuses for the “dissent, disobedience, and sedevacantist playacting that characterizes the traditionalist movement today” (emphasis mine). [34] In his letter, Barnes does not praise Gregorian chant above the liberty to refuse it. Within liberalism, no one can.
 

Clinging to “the One Blessing Not Forfeited by Original Sin”

In the place of allegiance to actual traditions, liberalism ushers in all traditions in potentia. Likewise, after SC §116 supposedly elevates Gregorian chant, it states the following:
But other kinds of sacred music, especially polyphony, are by no means excluded from liturgical celebrations, so long as they accord with the spirit of the liturgical action, as laid down in Art. 30.

This neutralizes the (already hopelessly hypothetical) “pride of place” due to Gregorian chant should it somehow spill over from potency to actuality, from bridesmaid to bride, and root itself in that highest of liturgical celebrations, the Mass. [35] Just how married are you to a particular woman if you “by no means” forsake any other? When you appear to compliment your lawfully-wedded wife, do you take pains to reassure other women of your continued favor? Even the holiest saint on Earth cannot sing both the Introit and the St. Louis Jesuit’s “Let us build the City of God” [36] at the same time. One genre must be excluded, and only one option (by its membership in the set of “kinds of sacred music” other than Gregorian chant) merits Vatican II’s protection from exclusion.

To clarify the marriage metaphor, it is not every soul on earth that should be wed to Gregorian chant. Rather, it is the Roman Rite which was historically, culturally, and theologically wedded to Gregorian chant till death. And who has checked in on the widower since his house fell silent? Liturgists of both conservative and progressive persuasions concur that the traditional Roman Rite was “destroyed” in the making of the new, [37] but this will nonetheless seem exaggerated to those unfamiliar with all that changed in 1969. I include Dr. Barnes in this category because of the attempt in his letter to backhandedly compliment traditionalists. He wrote that traditionalists’ local parish “could probably use their knowledge of the propers,” [38] but I can assure him that devotees of the 20th-century Tridentine Mass do not know the Novus Ordo propers in the first place. Only 13% of the 1,273 rotating orations of the traditional Roman Missal were preserved intact in the “flood,” [39] and precious few readings were left in their original place in the impossible-to-memorize triennial lectionary.

I know that reform-of-the-reformers such as Barnes earnestly wish to hear Gregorian chant again fill the sanctuaries of the Roman Church. But the Council Fathers gave and Paul VI confirmed an infinitely wide cop-out which we laity cannot rescind. What is worse is that we liberals, more than anything, love “keeping our options option.” We felt privileged rather than slighted to honor Gregorian chant with our fingers crossed behind our back. Where before there was a gold standard of sacred music, now there is a free market, with every individual as the arbiter of value.

It takes considerable virtue to deny such license. Suppose that a father of a bride makes a solemn request to his soon-to-be son-in-law: “Take care of my baby girl.” The groom starts to promise, “I will”, but the father continues, “other things being equal, of course.” Would not the righteous man, in a fit of offended chivalry, reject this interposed condition, saying “no, sir, other things being damned!”

It is with this degree of fervor that I wish for the Roman Catholic Church to un-sacrifice Gregorian chant, relinquishing in totality the potential to conjure up something better. Restoring Gregorian chant to true pride of place would in fact exclude other worthy genres such as polyphony, motets, and hymns from occupying the exact same honor. However, I grant D.C. Schindler’s point that “there is no going back” to simply reproducing the old pre-liberal forms. [40] Recommending that every smartphone-wielding Catholic download the free app Chant Tools [41] will not fix things to God’s satisfaction, but I suspect that seeing again the good of Gregorian chant might do the trick.

I myself cannot teach the depths of this good, but I can defend chant as not evil. Gregorian chant is a wonderful gift of “priceless worth” [42] (as Paul VI affirmed) because by its nature it fosters actual participation and understanding of prayer (as Paul VI denied). If it did not so augment the faith of all, it would not have “priceless worth” in the first place, nor would Pope St. Pius X have described active participation by the laity as precisely contingent upon it in his 1903 command: “Special efforts are to be made to restore the use of the Gregorian Chant by the people, so that the faithful may again take a more active part in the ecclesiastical offices, as was the case in ancient times.” [43]

A mere sixty years later, Vatican II required the Church to forever look this gift horse in the mouth, rather than ride it roughshod over Her spiritual enemies. SC §116 may at first seem to level the sacred music playing field for the benefit of all men, but it only succeeds in erecting the prison of human opinion. Within it, Satan holds our musical dowry from the ancient fathers, our patrimony from St. Gregory the Great, the crown of the crown of all sacred art, behind illusory gates constructed of our own pride. No one should prize the “freedom” to respect the liberal mirage.


NOTES 

[1] Barnes, Letters, New Polity Issue 3.1

[2] https://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19631204_sacrosanctum-concilium_en.html

[3] I believe that “chief place” is a better rendering of the original Latin, principem locum, but the translation on the Vatican website, when read charitably, conveys the same sentiment.

[4] Barnes, Letters, New Polity Issue 3.1

[5] https://newpolity.com/and-another-thing-feed/hats-off

[6] I am sure that there is a better story here than I can tell. Can it be a coincidence that, per the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, the words ceteris paribus were scarcely used between Cicero and Luis de Molina, those two bookends of Christendom?

https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/ceteris-paribus/index.html#ref-1

[7] “John Stuart Mill used the explicit phrase ‘ceteris paribus’ only occasionally but it had an important impact because he characterized economy by its way of coping with disturbing factors: ‘Political economy considers mankind as solely occupied in acquiring and consuming wealth […] not that any political economist was ever so absurd as to suppose that mankind is really thus constituted […] when a concurrence of causes produces an effect, these causes have to be studied one at a time, and their laws separately investigated […] since the law of the effect is compounded of the laws of all the causes which determine it.’” https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/ceteris-paribus/index.html#ref-7

[8] “The difficulty with ceteris paribus is the challenge of holding all other variables constant in an effort to isolate what is driving change. In reality, one can never assume ‘all other things being equal.’” https://www.investopedia.com/terms/c/ceterisparibus.asp

[9] “Now, food independence is a great goal, and all things being equal we’d love to reach for it, but given all the demands already made on our time, is it realistic to imagine that we can keep a dairy cow?” Considering the Family Cow: Why you want one and what it takes, page 8, Beth and Shawn Dougherty, 2021.

[10] December 04, 2007 “Ceteris Paribus: proving the principle or undermining it?,” Jeffrey Tucker. New Liturgical Movement.

What does Ceteris Paribus mean?New Liturgical Movement, December 12, 2008; “What does Sacrosanctum Concilium 116 really say?,” Fr. Z’s Blog, Fr. John Zuhlsdorf, 23 May 2012

[11] https://gaudiumetspes22.com/blog/a-manifesto-of-the-new-traditionalism

[12] Nor does the Manifesto say why, in its words, “the liturgy was unable to develop organically in this [the modern] era, all while Christian culture endured centuries of militant secularism and industrialization.” This sounds much like the liturgy was “smothered by an oppressive, institutional body,” since it would be hard to argue that the Church was not in control of Her own liturgy for hundreds of years. The New Traditionalists may be as guilty of liberalism as the Old.

[13] Barnes, Letters, New Polity Issue 3.1

[14] We are joined by other interpreters of various philosophical stances:

  1. Summing up Joseph Gelineau’s position, Anthony Ruff states that “in effect chant has priority only when other factors do not overweigh, such as ‘functional value, or pastoral concern regarding the language employed, and also regarding the adaptation of the melodies to the capabilities of the assembly, etc’.” Ruff, Anthony. Sacred Music and Liturgical Reform: Treasures and Transformations (Chicago, IL: Liturgy Training Publications, 2007), 321-332
  2. Joseph Swain states “The famous qualifier ceteris paribus (other things being equal) makes its appearance here to accommodate local conditions that might obstruct the use of plainchant or warrant its replacement by something more suitable for the sacred liturgy. In the light of both the theoretical nature of plainchant and the experience since the council, it is difficult to imagine what these conditions might be in any general case. The American Gospel Mass, sung where the local people have grown up with an alternative musical language owning a true sacred semantic, might be judged a situation where ‘other things’ outweigh the Gregorian advantages of biblical Mass propers specific for each Sunday: a universal and neutral language and a musical means to connect with the rest of the world.” Swain, Joseph P. Sacred Treasure: Understanding Catholic Liturgical Music (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2012), 321.

[15] “A few” is very likely less than 1 in 20, based on a straw poll of ReverentCatholicMass.com and some back-of-the-envelope calculations on the number of parishes listed versus the total parishes in the United States..

[16] Conservatives may be right when they assert that Msgr. Johannes Overath and the Council Fathers did not intend this outcome. I, however, cannot read the hearts of the Council Fathers, but only their words. Nor can I change what those words mean. If their words misrepresent their will, I require another word from them (or their successors) to know this.

[17]Sing to the Lord: Music in Divine Worship“: Guidelines developed by the Committee on Divine Worship. Approved by USCCB on November 14, 2007.

[18] The bishops’ intent to qualify any deference to be paid to chant, rather than boldly promote it, is also seen in their footnote citing the Vatican’s 1967 Instruction on Music in the Liturgy Musicam Sacram, which they write “further specifies that chant has pride of place ‘in sung liturgical services celebrated in Latin.’”

[19]Changes in Mass for Greater Apostolate,” Pope Paul VI, Address to a General Audience, November 26, 1969

[20] Congregation for Divine Worship, Jubilate Deo, 1974.

[21] Ibid., “Changes.”

[22] Ibid., “Changes.”

[23] The executives were quite explicit in their desire to fill the “niche” of uniting the world: “So that was the basic idea: to see Coke not as it was originally designed to be — a liquid refresher — but as a tiny bit of commonality between all peoples, a universally liked formula that would help to keep them company for a few minutes… Davis slowly revealed his problem. ‘Well, if I could do something for everybody in the world, it would not be to buy them a Coke.’ Backer responded, ‘What would you do?’ ‘I’d buy everyone a home first and share with them in peace and love,’ Davis said. Backer said, ‘Okay, that sounds good. Let’s write that and I’ll show you how Coke fits right into the concept.’” “Creating ‘I’d Like to Buy the World a Coke.’

[24] Coca-Cola, 1971 - ‘Hilltop’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VM2eLhvsSM

[25] To this day, Catholics are associated only with Gregorian chant despite its disuse and disfavor among them. Steve Martin, a comedian and agnostic, sings in a 2019 song “Atheists Don’t Have No Songs”: “Catholics dress up for Mass and listen to Gregorian chants.  Atheists just take a pass, watch football in their underpants.” Steve Martin and The Steep Canyon Rangers, Rare Bird Alert, 2019, Universal Music Group,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byPVyKBlosw

[26] Jubilate Deo, ibid.

[27] November 22, 2003. Chirograph of the Supreme Pontiff John Paul II For the Centenary of the Motu Proprio “Tra Le Sollecitudini” on Sacred Music. In-text citation: Moto Proprio Tra le Sollecitudini, n. 3, p. 79.

[28] Nov 22, 1903 Motu Proprio Tra le Sollecitudini, Pope Pius X, n. 3. Pius X’s word choice of “restored” dispels any false history of a pre-Vatican II “golden age” for Gregorian chant. We can grant Mike Lewis’s point in his article “Gregorian chant and the post-Vatican II liturgy” that chanters today may be more competent, or even more in love with chant, than before. However, consistent with my argument, Pius X also said the word “must” without qualification, insisting on a moral obligation which was turned inside out post-Vatican II.

[29] Chirograph of the Supreme Pontiff John Paul II For the Centenary of the Motu Proprio “Tra Le Sollecitudini” on Sacred Music.

[30] Page xvii, The Politics of the Real: The Church Between Liberalism and Integralism. D.C. Schindler, New Polity Press, Steubenville, OH, 2021

[31] Ibid., p. 57.

[32] Bull Unam Sanctam of Pope Boniface VIII promulgated November 18, 1302.

[33] Letter of the Holy Father Francis to the Bishops of the whole world, that accompanies the Apostolic Letter Motu Proprio Data “Traditionis Custodes” 16 July 2021

[34] Barnes, Letters, New Polity Issue 3.1

[35] Out of my own ignorance, I am neglecting the impact of the loss of Gregorian chant on the Divine Office. I presume it to be great.

[36] Dan Schutte, “City of God”

[37] “At this critical juncture, the traditional Roman rite, more than one thousand years old, has been destroyed.”

  1. Gamber, The Reform of the Roman Liturgy, K. Gamber ( Harrison, N.Y.,1993), p. 99. “Let those who like myself have known and sung a Latin-Gregorian High Mass remember it if they can. Let them compare it with the Mass that we now have. Not only the words, the melodies, and some of the gestures are different. To tell the truth, it is a different liturgy of the Mass. This needs to be said without ambiguity: the Roman Rite as we knew it no longer exists. It has been destroyed.” [Gelineau, Demain la liturgie: essai sur l’évolution des assemblées chrétiennes, Éditions du Cerf , Paris, 1976 pp. 9-10.]

[38] Barnes, Letters, New Polity Issue 3.1

[39] Rotating orations defined as “collects, secrets/super oblata, postcommunions and super populum,” excluding prefaces, hymns, and sequences. (October 01, 2021, “All the Elements of the Roman Rite”? Mythbusting, Part II, Matthew Hazell, New Liturgical Movement)

[40] Politics of the Real, p. 37

[41] https://bbloomf.github.io/jgabc/propers.html

[42] Paul VI, “Changes.”

[43] Tra le Sollecitudini

Monday, May 27, 2024

The Lie That Was Told to Over 2,000 Council Fathers at Vatican II

One of the most debated questions at the Second Vatican Council was the language in which the Mass and other rites would be celebrated for Western (aka Latin) Catholics. Everyone who was at the Council testified that there was a battle royale over this topic; there’s no one who disputes that fact. I have collected abundant testimonials in two articles here at NLM:

The majority opinion was certainly against total vernacularization; when someone said that Latin was in danger of disappearing, everyone burst out laughing. In all of the drafts of Sacrosanctum Concilium, the normativity of Latin was always stressed: that’s how we ended up with SC 36:
1. Particular law remaining in force, the use of the Latin language is to be preserved in the Latin rites. 2. But since the use of the mother tongue, whether in the Mass, the administration of the sacraments, or other parts of the liturgy, frequently may be of great advantage to the people, the limits of its employment may be extended. This will apply in the first place to the readings and directives, and to some of the prayers and chants, according to the regulations on this matter to be laid down separately in subsequent chapters.
Some Council Fathers were worried about the loopholes. But the relator, that is, the rapporteur tasked with speaking to the assembly on behalf of the committee working on the document, reassured them that total vernacularization was out of the question.

Here is where the research of Fr. Gabriel Díaz-Patri is invaluable. In his essay “Cristina Campo and the Petition of 1966” (chapter 9 in the immensely fascinating book The Latin Mass and the Intellectuals: Petitions to Save the Ancient Mass from 1966 to 2007 edited by Joseph Shaw and published by Arouca Press towards the end of last year), Fr. Díaz-Patri pulls together the relevant passages buried in the gigantic tomes of the acts of Vatican II. [1]
 
Fr. Díaz-Patri writes (pp. 114–18):

« The Council, which, in fact, was still in session [when Inter Oecumenici appeared in 1964], had clearly decided on the preservation of the Latin language for the liturgy of the Latin rites. Indeed, from the very beginning the normative place of Latin in the liturgy was reiterated in no. 24 of the Schema (the official draft of the Constitution), which received the approval of the Council and became article 36 §1 of Sacrosanctum Concilium. The expression is clear: “Linguae latinae usus . . . in Ritibus latinis servetur” (“the use of the Latin language in the Latin rites must be preserved”). The subjunctive “servetur” clearly expresses a command, and not a mere recommendation.

The Acta synodalia Sacrosancti Concilii Oecumenici Vaticani Secundi, where the minutes of all the discussions that took place in the conciliar hall are officially transcribed, records that some of the Council Fathers suggested changes in the wording to weaken the principle, but their proposals were defeated. The clarity of the principle is confirmed both by the later commentary of Fr. Carlo Braga, and by the official rapporteur, Bishop Jesus Enciso Viana of Mallorca, whose task was to clarify for the Council Fathers the meaning of the texts, who stated in a later debate: “To completely exclude the Latin language from the Mass would contradict the principle already established [by the Council] in Article 36.”

Nevertheless, the Constitution then goes on to state that “since it is not unusual for the use of the vernacular language to be very useful to the people,” it may be given an appropriate place.

There are important nuances in this text that are worth considering with the help of the Acta Synodalia. The initial schema stated categorically “amplior locus ipsi in liturgia tribuatur” (“a wider place must be given”) [no. 24 §2] to the vernacular, but, contrary to what happened in the previous case, this time the Council decided to correct the subjunctive of the expression that had originally been proposed by the drafters, replacing it with the more moderate form “amplior locus ipsi tribui valeat” (“a wider place may be given”), which was approved by the Council Fathers as paragraph §2 of art. 36 of the Conciliar Constitution.

A little further on, in a parallel context, the same procedure was followed with the subjunctive of the expression “congruus locus tribuatur” (“a congruent place must be given,” sc. to the vernacular languages), proposed in that case by the drafters of the schema, which was changed by the Council to the weaker “congruus locus tribui possit” (“it may be given an appropriate place”), as we find in §54 of the document officially approved by the Council Fathers.

The incorporation of these modifications into the original schema was explained in the following way by the rapporteur in the Conciliar Hall so that the meaning of the points upon which they had to vote would be clear to participants.
We have wished to express it in such a way that those who wish to celebrate the whole Mass in the Latin language do not impose their opinion on the others; but that, in the same way, those who wish to use the vernacular in some parts of the Mass do not oblige the former to do so. [!] Therefore, according to what had already been established in no. 36, we have granted a suitable place for the vernacular languages; but we do not say “must be given,” but “may be given,” which we had already taken care to do in the aforementioned no. 36.
On the other hand, the above-mentioned term “congruus” used in no. 54 is not accidental either: if the conference of bishops decide to permit the use of the vernacular, the place and mode of application were to be clearly delimited: first, it is clear that the vernacular was to be used only in Masses with the people (“in Missis cum populo celebratis”), and secondly, the use of the vernacular language was to be limited to certain parts of the celebration, and these parts should be specifically enumerated in each case.

These parts could be, in principle (“imprimis”), the readings and admonitions (“in lectionibus, admonitionibus”), the “common prayer” or “prayer of the faithful” which had just been reincorporated into the Roman Mass, as well as some prayers and chants (“in nonnullis orationibus et cantibus”). In addition, when local conditions made it advisable (“pro condicione locorum”), this could also be extended to those parts of the Mass that pertain to the people (“etiam in partibus quae ad populum spectant”). However, the enumeration of various possibilities in no way implied a universal authorization whose application could be decided individually by the celebrant, but it was up to the competent territorial authority (and, if applicable, after having heard the opinion of the bishops of neighboring regions speaking the same language) to establish, first of all, whether the vernacular language would be allowed or not, and if it was allowed, to what degree, after approval and confirmation by the Apostolic See.

On the other hand, the enumeration of the various possibilities for the use of the vernacular in the Instruction does not mean that all must be authorized; rather, it represents the limits within which the competent authority may authorize.

Fr. Braga also explains that, if we follow the Conciliar Constitution, the parts that are sung or said by the celebrant should be only in Latin. However, the same Constitution adds that if, in some place (“sicubi”), after careful and prudent consideration (“sedulo et prudenter”), it seems opportune to allow an even wider use of the vernacular to include also some of the parts (“aliquae ex his partibus”) said by the priest, an indult should be requested from the Holy See according to the norms given in no. 40. However, prayers recited in secret by the priest are always excluded [“semper excluduntur”]: these must be only in Latin.

When the language issue was discussed again, in the Congregatio Generalis XLIII, the rapporteur explained the proposed text:
We are therefore leaving open two doors: the door is not closed to anyone who wishes to celebrate the whole Mass in the Latin language; and the door is not closed to anyone to use the vernacular language in specific parts of the Mass.
In this way, the only door that was completely closed by the Council, according to the text approved and in light of this explanation given by the rapporteur, is that of being able to say the whole Mass in the vernacular. On the other hand, as the rapporteur points out, the only thing that is commanded in this article is to be found in a text added to the original schema by the Council Fathers, namely, that the faithful should be taught to say or sing in Latin the parts of the Mass that correspond to them. »
Print by Mathieu Lauweriks, 1935 (source)

Let us summarize in five points what SC teaches according to the official relator:

  1. Latin must be kept in the liturgy; this is not optional.
  2. A liturgy in Latin only will always be possible.
  3. The vernacular may be used, at the discretion of episcopal conferences and with the Holy See's approval.
  4. But the vernacular is to be used for only some portions of the liturgy, not for all.
  5. The people must be instructed in Latin Gregorian chant.

Thus, at a busy urban parish in England or the USA one might envision a Sunday schedule something like this (not that I'm recommending it, but merely envisioning what might follow from the foregoing norms):
  • two low Masses in Latin, one of them a dialogue Mass;
  • one low Mass with the changing parts in the vernacular;
  • a high Mass chanted in Latin by the choir trained on Ward Method;
  • a high Mass in Latin, with English hymns and readings.
That, I suggest, is the mental picture that most closely resembles what all the bishops and superiors of the Catholic Church voted in favor of. As Fr. Díaz-Patri shows, the Council Fathers were solemnly assured, prior to voting on the text, that its meaning could not be construed as endorsing or even allowing total vernacularization, and that the rights of Latin would be respected to such an extent that some part of the Mass would always remain in Latin, and the whole of it could remain in Latin for those who wished it. And Paul VI promulgated this document as thus presented.

In the meetings of the Central Preparatory Commission prior to the Council, Cardinal Montini gave a speech in which, after appealing to the other members of the CPC to broaden the use of the vernacular for certain parts of Mass, he then stated: “In the rest of the Mass, the Latin language will be kept, except perhaps for the Lord’s Prayer (Our Father), which is, as it were, the summit of public prayer, and is the best preparation of souls for Communion.” At the Council itself, Cardinal Montini stated even more clearly: “Especially when it comes to the language to be used in worship, the use of the ancient language handed down by our forefathers, namely, the Latin language, should for the Latin Church be firm and stable in those parts of the rite which are sacramental and properly and truly priestly.

All the while, the main advocates of liturgical reform—and their leader, Cardinal Montini, with his new friend Annibale Bugnini, whom he quickly sized up as the right man for the job, as Yves Chiron narrates in his biographies of both figures—had no intention of honoring this stipulation. Msgr. Bugnini was an enemy of Latin liturgy all his life. Famously, in a 1969 response to Hubert Jedin who had lamented the damage to Church unity from the almost total disappearance of Latin, Bugnini showed his cards: “Do you believe there is a deep and heartfelt unity amid lack of understanding, ignorance, and the ‘dark of night’ of a worship that lacks a face and light, at least for those out in the nave?”

It would appear that many who worked with Bugnini to draft Sacrosanctum Concilium and later staffed the Consilium felt the same way. Yet they knew they could not ask for too much, too fast. This is why Bugnini said, in what is among his most notorious utterance (speaking to a small number of fellow SC drafters on November 11, 1961):

It would be most inconvenient for the articles of our Constitution to be rejected by the Central Commission or by the Council itself. That is why we must tread carefully and discreetly. Carefully, so that proposals be made in an acceptable manner (modo acceptabile), or, in my opinion, formulated in such a way that much is said without seeming to say anything: let many things be said in embryo (in nuce) and in this way let the door remain open to legitimate and possible postconciliar deductions and applications: let nothing be said that suggests excessive novelty and might invalidate all the rest, even what is straightforward and harmless (ingenua et innocentia). We must proceed discreetly. Not everything is to be asked or demanded from the Council—but the essentials, the fundamental principles [are].
Part of what he already had in mind here was total vernacularization, which he knew would have been massively voted down by the Council Fathers. So, we mustn't tell them that... we must utter some "fundamental principles"... and, if needed, grease the wheels with a few untruths... it wouldn't be the first time that one had to tell a noble lie for the good of the people...

After the Council, the moves toward this goal were rapid, as Fr. Díaz-Patri well documents in the aforementioned book. There was Inter Oecumenici of 1964; the first Italian Mass by none other than Paul VI in March of 1965; the Missa Normativa of 1967; the infamous papal general audiences of 1965 (March 17) and 1969 (November 19 and November 26), in which Paul VI bare farewell to Latin and Gregorian chant. [3]

If we step back and view this whole elaborate picture, what do we see?

Quite simply this. Montini, Bugnini, and all who belonged to their camp wanted to move away from Latin into the vernacular long before the Council. But they made sure to present to the Council a document sufficiently conservative and sufficiently vague to allow over 2,000 bishops to sign off on it—and, what is more, made sure everyone was given the false assurance that Latin would remain in place, even though their actions immediately after the Council make it abundantly clear they never had any intention of honoring these reassurances. Within a few short years, Latin was nearly entirely gone from the Church’s public worship—or rather, it had been actively excluded, banished.

How then can one attempt to justify this gigantic bait-and-switch?

Well, predictably, it is turned into pious hagiography, an unexpected victory of Divine Providence over minds as yet insufficiently enlightened at the Council. In the words of Cavadini, Healy, and Weinandy:

As we have seen, the Council Fathers desired that the Latin language be preserved, especially in the people’s responses, although they readily acknowledged that the vernacular was frequently advantageous to the people. What they did not anticipate was the enthusiasm with which the vernacular was accepted by clergy and laity alike. Bishops’ conferences around the world voted to expand the use of the vernacular and requested and received permission to do so from Rome….
        The vox populi had spoken and had been affirmed by the Church—vernacular it would be. This ecclesial affirmation undercuts one of the most common arguments against the Novus Ordo: that the wholesale adoption of the vernacular, and the reformed liturgy more broadly, is illegitimate because it went beyond what the Council intended. What this fails to note is that Church’s magisterium, in the persons of Paul VI and John Paul II, confirmed these developments, judging them to be authentic liturgical developments that were in accord with the aims of the Council, even if the Council had not explicitly called for them.
Given all that we have seen, this interpretation is the very height of tendentiousness. Such an approach, where the vox populi plus the papal rubberstamp equals “legitimate development,” is really no different from the move of progressives who say that “the Spirit” outstripped the limited mental faculties and theological categories of the Council Fathers and paved the way for outcomes that far exceeded their wildest dreams (or nightmares, as the case may be). In both cases, the past is left behind, buried beneath the rubble of its own deconstruction, and replaced with a “new Catholicism” that must sound different, look different, be different, than it was for every prior century of its existence. [4]

One cannot learn about a bait-and-switch of this magnitude without souring on the Council-as-event, the governance of Paul VI, the ideology of Bugnini, and the good faith of the entire Consilium. There is no room for a naively optimistic narrative. There was deviancy, plotting, mendacity, and betrayal. That is the milieu out of which the liturgical reform arose. As children bear the traits of their parents, so the reform bears the traits of its treacherous origins, and carries them forward with daily ruptures, like a garment torn inch by inch.

This is why I say in my books that the difficulties in the reform are not cosmetic but genetic: they have to do with the principles of its construction, design, and execution, not the superficially mutable aspects of its instantiation here or there. And this is why restoration, not reform, is the only path to a satisfactory and stable liturgical future for the Catholic Church.

NOTES

[1] In the interests of space, I will leave out the extensive footnotes—a good reason to make sure you pick up a copy of this book, among the best books I read in the whole of 2023.

[2] For both quotations, and their Latin originals, see this article by Matthew Hazell.

[3] For the texts with commentary, see this lecture. These speeches are the reason why it is impossible to claim that "the Novus Ordo was meant to be done in Latin, with chant, but it was hijacked," etc. See this article.

[4] For a thorough refutation of the Cavadini, Healy, and Weinandy series, see the anthology Illusions of Reform.

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