Now that thousands of parishes, chapels, and cathedrals around the world are livestreaming Masses on a weekly or even daily basis, it is more possible than ever to experience the bankruptcy of that postconciliar innovation that Msgr. Klaus Gamber considered the single worst liturgical change to be visited on the Catholic Church: the stance of the celebrant facing the people at Mass.
NLM has featured many articles over the years critiquing versus populum from theological, liturgical, and psychological points of view — see, for example, “Mass ‘Facing the People’ as Counter-Catechesis and Irreligion”; “How Contrary Orientations Signify Contradictory Theologies”; and, highly pertinent in light of the recent memo sent by a certain bishop in the American Mountain West, “The Normativity of Ad Orientem Worship According to the Ordinary Form’s Rubrics.” (This memo was the subject of an extended critique here.)
But with broadcasting, the problem is compounded a thousandfold, because the celebrant stands not towards a congregation, as if in a closed circle with them — for in this situation, at least there is something of a human symbol, albeit not the precise symbol called for by the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass — but towards a camera, like a talkshow host or a cook at a cooking demonstration.
Joseph Sciambra comments on his blog:
Dan Millette points out that half a century of priests being trained to “say Mass for the people” has built up in many of them a habit of thinking of Mass solely or primarily in terms of seeing and interacting with the congregation, “touching” them with eye contact, a certain tone of voice, a suburban ars celebrandi:
If ever there was a reductio ad absurdum for the versus populum stance, this, the final outcome of the closed-circle mentality, would be it. If the church in which this priest is standing happened to have a tabernacle behind the altar, the inversion would be complete: a priest praying towards pieces of paper with faces, instead of praying towards the God who dwells with His people as their Head, their King, and their Shepherd, in Person—the Son of God whose bloody sacrifice on the Cross, sacramentally enacted upon the altar, is the reason Mass is said at all, for the profit of the living and the dead, wherever they may be.
Although perhaps this photo of a bishop saying Mass to a camera is just as effective a reductio ad absurdum:
More examples may be seen in an article just posted at PrayTell, including a photo of a man proclaiming the Word to an empty church:
Seeing this photo brought home to me once again the wisdom of the tradition in having the Epistle chanted eastwards and the Gospel chanted northwards: in this way the position of the reader is dictated by theological and symbolic ideas that lead to no weirdness when implemented in an empty church, unlike the scenario depicted above.
The current wealth of live-streaming opportunities has, however, brought with it a change for the better: the sheer number of ad orientem Masses (almost always in the usus antiquior) that are now just as easily available via social media as the versus populum options. To my knowledge, such eastward-facing Masses were not nearly as plentiful or visible in the eyes of the Catholic people as they are today. I wish I could find out statistics about viewers, but just as there can be no doubt that more (private) TLMs are being said right now than at any point since 1969, I would guess that the number of Catholics currently viewing ad orientem Masses from their homes is a significantly higher number than the Catholics who were already attending ad orientem Masses in person every week. The bishops’ rapid shutdown of public worship, whether or not it was required by civil authorities, may backfire on them in surprising ways.
A Catholic who desires a more prayerful immersion in the holy mysteries can end up viewing such liturgies as these instead:
NLM has featured many articles over the years critiquing versus populum from theological, liturgical, and psychological points of view — see, for example, “Mass ‘Facing the People’ as Counter-Catechesis and Irreligion”; “How Contrary Orientations Signify Contradictory Theologies”; and, highly pertinent in light of the recent memo sent by a certain bishop in the American Mountain West, “The Normativity of Ad Orientem Worship According to the Ordinary Form’s Rubrics.” (This memo was the subject of an extended critique here.)
But with broadcasting, the problem is compounded a thousandfold, because the celebrant stands not towards a congregation, as if in a closed circle with them — for in this situation, at least there is something of a human symbol, albeit not the precise symbol called for by the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass — but towards a camera, like a talkshow host or a cook at a cooking demonstration.
Joseph Sciambra comments on his blog:
The COVID-19 crisis has also clearly revealed another point of polarization in the Church: the Novus Ordo and the Traditional Latin Mass. One is priest-centered and lends itself well to the media-age—it is suited to live-streaming over the internet with the focus on the personality of the presider; hence, many parishes have a cult of personality around a charismatic priest who is mainly known for his amicability. I remember these priests; for their rainbow-colored vestments; for their stupid jokes told during the homily; and for how they endlessly wandered about the church, hugging everyone, during the “kiss of peace.” Over the years, I have been to countless Latin Masses offered by many different priests; I do not remember the priests very well, but I remember that Christ was there.That there is great confusion about the very essence of the Mass and the meaning of the ministerial priesthood may be gleaned from newspaper articles that interview priests who are now at loose ends because they have no congregation to engage. Having been led to define priesthood as a relation with the people when it is a relation with Christ first and foremost, on behalf of the people, they search in vain, or at least with great difficulty, for an intrinsic and transcendent meaning to the offering of due worship to the Most Holy Trinity, such as animated centuries of so-called “private Masses,” which the Magisterium of the Church encouraged right through Benedict XVI (see my article “The Church encourages priests to say Masses, even without the faithful”).
Dan Millette points out that half a century of priests being trained to “say Mass for the people” has built up in many of them a habit of thinking of Mass solely or primarily in terms of seeing and interacting with the congregation, “touching” them with eye contact, a certain tone of voice, a suburban ars celebrandi:
It [live-streaming] does raise the issue, caused by a versus populum paradigm, of priests’ need for an audience—that saying Mass alone is somehow unfulfilling or even weird. Thus, a camera is set up, often right on the altar mere inches away from the priest’s face, and his well practiced liturgical voice and gestures are given their desired audience. Along those lines, I think of an earlier story to come out of the COVID-19 crisis in Italy. It was of a lonely priest, forbidden from saying public Mass, who decided to post printed selfies of all his parishioners on the pews of the church. The action, which other priests soon imitated, was perhaps heartfelt, but nevertheless a sentimental absence of real liturgical understanding. This is not a live-stream issue per se, but it coalesces with the need priests have for saying Mass with an audience.Here is the innovative use of taped photographs to which Millette refers:
If ever there was a reductio ad absurdum for the versus populum stance, this, the final outcome of the closed-circle mentality, would be it. If the church in which this priest is standing happened to have a tabernacle behind the altar, the inversion would be complete: a priest praying towards pieces of paper with faces, instead of praying towards the God who dwells with His people as their Head, their King, and their Shepherd, in Person—the Son of God whose bloody sacrifice on the Cross, sacramentally enacted upon the altar, is the reason Mass is said at all, for the profit of the living and the dead, wherever they may be.
Although perhaps this photo of a bishop saying Mass to a camera is just as effective a reductio ad absurdum:
More examples may be seen in an article just posted at PrayTell, including a photo of a man proclaiming the Word to an empty church:
Seeing this photo brought home to me once again the wisdom of the tradition in having the Epistle chanted eastwards and the Gospel chanted northwards: in this way the position of the reader is dictated by theological and symbolic ideas that lead to no weirdness when implemented in an empty church, unlike the scenario depicted above.
The current wealth of live-streaming opportunities has, however, brought with it a change for the better: the sheer number of ad orientem Masses (almost always in the usus antiquior) that are now just as easily available via social media as the versus populum options. To my knowledge, such eastward-facing Masses were not nearly as plentiful or visible in the eyes of the Catholic people as they are today. I wish I could find out statistics about viewers, but just as there can be no doubt that more (private) TLMs are being said right now than at any point since 1969, I would guess that the number of Catholics currently viewing ad orientem Masses from their homes is a significantly higher number than the Catholics who were already attending ad orientem Masses in person every week. The bishops’ rapid shutdown of public worship, whether or not it was required by civil authorities, may backfire on them in surprising ways.
A Catholic who desires a more prayerful immersion in the holy mysteries can end up viewing such liturgies as these instead:
