Guest Article: Who Actually Delegitimizes the “Novus Ordo Missae”?

The following detailed analysis of the Responsa ad dubia of the Congregation for Divine Worship by Clemens Victor Oldendorf was published in two parts, “The Fundamental Theoretical Question” and “The Preparedness for Concelebration,” on December 25 and 29, at kathnews.de (here and here). The following translation, prepared by Peter Kwasniewski, has been approved by the author.

The fundamental theoretical question

If one recalls the motives for which the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum legally established a bifurcation of the one Roman Rite, and stated that the older of these expressions had never been abrogated by Pope Paul VI or any of his successors, and had therefore always remained permitted in principle, it is clear that there was an abstract theoretical construct and legal fiction aimed precisely at justifying, formally and above all substantively, the post-conciliar liturgical reform of 1969 and Pope Paul VI, who had decreed and implemented it.

For my own part, I have often argued that the coexistence of different editiones typicae of the Missale Romanum (and other liturgical books) need not in itself pose a compelling problem if, as in our specific case, one edition is the latest one based on the reform mandate of the Council of Trent (1545–1563), and the other is the most recent one based on or following the liturgical reform of the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965). Here, an evaluation of the origins and liturgical structure of the rite in each case remains out of consideration for the time being, as do the advantages or disadvantages in the rite’s expression of Eucharistic dogma.

Traditionis Custodes, however, now says that the liturgical books promulgated by Paul VI and John Paul II after the Second Vatican Council are the “sole expression” of the lex orandi in the Roman Rite. Note: this is to say more than just that the Missale Romanum of Paul VI replaced the Missale Romanum of 1962, and replaced it completely. What is says is that the Tridentine missal or celebrations according to it are no longer even part of the Roman Rite; above all, that they are no longer an expression of the Latin-rite Church’s lex orandi.

At this point, it is not merely about the problem that, if this were true, then—despite protestations to the contrary—logically the Church’s lex credendi must have changed. But if the Tridentine rite is no longer Roman, and the rite resulting from the liturgical reform of Paul VI binds the entire Latin Church, a Tridentine Mass celebrated after July 16, 2021, finds itself in an ecclesiastical vacuum, both in terms of its ritual affiliation, and ultimately, in terms of ecclesiology.

It must be made very clear that given the nature of such claims, it will not be possible to comply with the new regulations in force from July 16 if one desires to hold on to the liturgical tradition with deliberation and conviction or to maintain one’s connection to it.

Funeral of Paul VI

Rome now openly claims the post-conciliar liturgical reform as a breach

It is not the traditionalists who are using Traditionis Custodes to question the legitimacy of Paul VI’s post-conciliar liturgical reform. Quite apart from the fact that Benedict XVI had built golden bridges to this legitimacy in Summorum Pontificum, one could easily concede—even without necessarily having to use the new liturgical books oneself on account of this concession—that a newer usus of the Roman Rite, where it has meanwhile been observed for decades in a manner faithful to its own prescriptions, could develop some legitimacy and a justification of its own, even if one thinks that it did not originally possess them, or at least is open to the possibility that it might have lacked them at the start.

All previous old-rite indults, and likewise the Motu Proprio of 2007, could be understood in a such a way that one could make these concessions if it was important to be in tension-free agreement with the ecclesiastical authorities, despite one’s own adherence to the Tridentine Mass and liturgy, and if one wanted to do everything correctly in purely formal canonical terms.

The premises that have now been established with Traditionis Custodes and reaffirmed by the Responsa of the Congregation for Divine Worship are for the first time clearly unacceptable to anyone who has hitherto preferred the liturgical books of 1962 for reasons other than preference or a sympathy of mentality. Indeed, now the liturgical tradition up to the Second Vatican Council is quite blatantly relegated to an allegedly deficient, even lacking, conformity with the Church’s lex orandi, and pushed out of the realm of what is to be henceforth considered the Roman Rite.

Thus, the liturgical reform of Paul VI is claimed, not by obscure or extremist critics of Vatican II, but by the highest authority itself, to be a rupture. This must, at least in strict theory, deprive it of the legitimacy it may have originally had formally, or may have gained in the meantime through long-continued use in the numerically predominant part of the Church.

Those who felt obliged by ecclesiastical obedience to accept the post-Conciliar liturgical reform, and yet endeavored not to make use of the new rite of Mass in conscious opposition to the previous one, are equally challenged, by the interpretation given to the liturgical reform in Traditionis Custodis and the related explanations from the Congregation for Divine Worship, to reconsider their previous attitude and liturgical practice.

Concelebration: an indispensable gesture of communion or of acceptance of the liturgical reform?

From its treatment in the Responsa ad dubia, it is quite clear that this document of the Congregation for Divine Worship is by no means addressed only to local bishops in whose dioceses Masses have already been celebrated according to the Missale Romanum of 1962, nor only to diocesan priests who have already celebrated them, those who are to be commissioned to do so in the future, or those who would like to celebrate in the future according to this missal. The answers clearly also concern the former “Ecclesia Dei” communities and the priests who belong or will belong to them. In this regard, it is worth recalling what Pope Benedict XVI wrote in 2007 in the letter accompanying his Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum: “In order to experience full communion, the priests of the communities adhering to the former usage cannot, as a matter of principle, exclude celebrating according to the new books. The total exclusion of the new rite would not in fact be consistent with the recognition of its value and holiness.”

This willingness in principle, however, has until now been a purely theoretical one that has never materialized or had to be demonstrated in practice. Incidentally, it is striking in Benedict XVI’s formulation that it is not even specifically about concelebration according to the new liturgical books. The dubium here under examination asks: “If a priest who has been permitted to use the 1962 Missale Romanum does not recognize the validity and legitimacy of concelebration—refuses to concelebrate, especially at the Chrism Mass—can he continue to avail himself of this permission?” The answer to this question of doubt is a resounding no.

But priests of the former Ecclesia Dei communities are obviously among those who have been “permitted to use the 1962 Missale Romanum.” What is interesting in the wording of the question is the talk of recognizing the validity and legitimacy of concelebration, and the implicit presupposition that such recognition can consist only in occasionally concelebrating in person, and especially at the Chrism Mass with the local bishop in whose diocese one resides and ministers. The explanatory note speaks of the validity and legitimacy of the liturgical reform, so “concelebration” and Pope Paul VI’s post-conciliar “liturgical reform” are, as it were, used synonymously. In other words, the practice of concelebration is seen as an exquisite achievement of this liturgical reform, like an emblem. And although current canon law guarantees the right to individual celebration, as is well known, one should not be surprised at such an interpretation, since in St. Peter’s itself, individual celebrations even according to the post-conciliar missal have been de facto abolished in favor of concelebration.

In this dubium on concelebration in particular, with the answer and explanatory note, it is therefore clearly a question of priests who up to now have exclusively used the old Missal and were allowed to do so.

Evidently, the vast majority of diocesan priests or religious priests who celebrated indult Masses or, after 2007, have used the 1962 Missale Romanum on the basis of Summorum Pontificum, have predominantly celebrated (and, where appropriate, concelebrated) in the post-conciliar renewed rite of Paul VI, and have already thereby sufficiently demonstrated that they recognize the validity and legitimacy of the post-conciliar liturgical reform.

The members of the earlier Ecclesia Dei communities also did so in theory, for, like all others who made use of Summorum Pontificum, they thereby accepted, at least by implication, that the one Roman Rite had two forms and even, de iure, that the newer form enjoys a certain primacy of place, as it had emerged from Paul VI’s liturgical reform following the Second Vatican Council.

But if one now considers that Traditionis Custodes can logically address itself only to traditionalists who have already claimed, as the basis of their adherence to the liturgical tradition, the papal indults or the preceding motu proprio of Benedict XVI, and who, with the local bishops’ approval, have developed and continue to develop their activity mostly in regular places of worship where they have celebrated and continue to celebrate as guests with the approval of the pastor, then it is once again questionable why they should have to offer additional proofs of the validity and legitimacy of the liturgical reform by concelebrating in person.

Although there is the exception of the Archdiocese of Vaduz, where the diocesan bishop has celebrated the Chrism Mass according to the old liturgical books for several years in the past (which will no longer be possible in the future, unless he is willing to ignore the prohibition), concelebration is not the only way to express one’s hierarchical communion with the bishop.

Practical signs of accepting the validity and legitimacy of the reformed rites

By receiving from the local ordinary the sacred oils consecrated in the new rite, a priest also accepts its validity, and furthermore—with the exception of the Apostolic Administration of the Holy Curé of Ars in Campos, Brazil—none of the former Ecclesia Dei communities have their own bishops, consecrated according to the old Pontifical. Even if the priests themselves have been ordained according to the old Pontifical up to now, from this point of view, none of the priests of these communities is, so to speak, “purely Tridentine” because the prelates ordaining them were ordained using the 1968 Pontifical; and even the SSPX accepts into its ranks priests ordained in the new rite, or at least collaborates with them. (Only if there are doubts about validity in a concrete individual case and the priest in question explicitly draws attention to the possible problems can there sometimes be a discreet conditional re-ordination, at the priest’s explicit request.)

Furthermore, it can be pointed out that probably the majority of the Masses celebrated on the basis of Summorum Pontificum using the Tridentine Missal were celebrated in churches and chapels where otherwise the post-conciliar Missal is predominantly used, and moreover, that at such Masses, in the Vetus Ordo, Communion for the faithful may be taken from ciboria in the tabernacle whose hosts were consecrated in celebrations according to the new missal. Such a thing would certainly not be possible if there was a denial of the validity and legitimacy of the new rite.

In the dubium about concelebration under closer consideration here, therefore, an unrealistic construct is present, one which, strictly speaking, cannot have existed in the case of anyone who has ever applied to benefit from an old-rite indult, or who, from September 14, 2007 to July 16, 2021, celebrated Masses on the basis of Summorum Pontificum according to the Missale Romanum of 1962, or assisted at Masses celebrated on this legal basis. In short: a much higher threshold of evidence than could possibly be necessary has been introduced, which gives the response a punitive character.

The traditionalists whom Traditionis Custodes is targeting have never asked for “permission” to hold on to the traditional liturgy—they consider it a patrimony prior to and deeper than the whim of the pope—and will not now suddenly allow it to be taken away and forbidden by Pope Francis. However, many of those who, until now, have attached importance to the requesting and receipt of such permission may now start to think it over again, and, possibly even more, to rethink the basic legitimacy of the liturgical reform, including the Pauline Pontificale Romanum of 1968 and the Pauline Novus Ordo of 1969—especially since the post-conciliar liturgical books have now been claimed to be the sole (!) expression of the lex orandi of the Roman Rite. Such unreality handicaps this declaration that it compels a re-examination of the delicate (and, some might say, unsustainable) peace on which Summorum Pontificum was constructed.

The faithful who feel committed to the liturgical tradition of the Latin Church and who want to be nothing but Roman Catholics are thus pushed out, and it becomes clear: Pope Francis and the Congregation for Divine Worship are obviously not really concerned with the high good of genuine ecclesial unity, but at most with a positivist loyalty to authority.

“Eucharistic Concelebration: Theological, Historical, and Liturgical Aspects” — Guest Article by Bishop Athanasius Schneider

New Liturgical Movement is pleased to be able to publish online the following incisive text by Bishop Athanasius Schneider, which also appears in print in the latest issue of Latin Mass magazine. In the first part, His Excellency looks at the historical roots and theological implications of Eucharistic concelebration, while in the second part he makes a concrete proposal for how concelebration might be rarely but appropriately used and how its ceremonial ought to unfold. This rich presentation comes at a critically important time, as concelebration has once again been much in the news.—PAK

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, Papal Mass (1832)

Eucharistic Concelebration:
Theological, Historical, and Liturgical Aspects

Bishop Athanasius Schneider

I. The Theological and Historical Aspect

1. The first Holy Mass was celebrated by Our Lord in the cenacle. This Mass did not have the form of a sacramental concelebration because the apostles did not pronounce the words of consecration; only the Lord pronounced them. The apostles participated in the Eucharist, celebrated by the Lord, by sacramentally receiving His Body and His Blood. We could say they “concelebrated” in the first Mass in the form of a non-sacramental concelebration.

2. From the earliest times, the universal Church (both in the East and in the West) conserved faithfully this original form of Eucharistic concelebration with these two characteristics:

1. The main celebrant alone pronounces the words of consecration;
2. The main celebrant is always and exclusively the “high priest,” i.e. the bishop (and in Rome the Pope).

3. In the beginning of the Middles Ages, in the Papal Liturgy in Rome there was a development of the original form by the fact that the concelebrants pronounced the words of consecration together with the Pope (cf. Ordo Romanus III, 8th century).

4. However, down to the present, the most ancient Oriental churches—the non-Catholic Greek Byzantines, the non-Catholic Copts, and non-Catholic Nestorians—have conserved the norm that only the main celebrant pronounces the words of consecration.

5. Until recent times in the universal Church, a priest never presided as the main celebrant of a Eucharistic sacramental concelebration.

6. From the seventeenth century on, the Byzantine Catholic churches introduced an innovation, that is, the form of concelebration among priests without a bishop as the main celebrant. Thereby the concelebration among priests became usual (cf. the article “Le rituel de la concélébration eucharistique” of Aimé Georges Martimort in Ephemerides Liturgicae 77 [1963] 147–168).

7. Such a form of Eucharistic concelebration only among priests was alien to the universal and constant tradition of the Church. Therefore the Roman Church forbade such concelebration among priests (cf. can. 803 of the Code of Canon Law 1917).

8. Only the Catholic Oriental churches adopted the custom that all concelebrants pronounce the words of consecration.

9. Until the Second Vatican Council, in the Latin Church a Eucharistic sacramental concelebration, where all concelebrants pronounce the words of consecration, was practiced only on three occasions:

1. Episcopal consecration: only the main consecrator and the newly consecrated bishops concelebrated.
2. Priestly ordination: only the bishop and the newly ordained priests concelebrated.
3. Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday in the Cathedral of Lyons (France): the bishop concelebrated with six priests.

10. For the Chrism Mass, the Roman Church conserved until the Second Vatican Council however the most ancient form, i.e. the words of consecration pronounced only by the bishop, although twelve priests assisted him clothed with all the vestments required for Mass. With this form, the Roman Church perhaps wished to recount the first Holy Mass on Holy Thursday, where the main celebrant, Jesus the High Priest, alone pronounced the words of consecration while the twelve apostles concelebrated non-sacramentally, since they did not pronounce together with the Lord the words of the sacramental consecration.

11. In the millennial tradition of the Roman Church, sacramental Eucharistic concelebration constituted always an extraordinary solemn act, which occurred on:

1. Ecclesiastically important circumstances, which reflected the hierarchically ordered constitution of the Church, such as in the aforementioned episcopal consecrations and in priestly ordinations;
2. When the bishop celebrated Mass in a most solemn and hierarchically structured form, such as was the case in the Chrism Mass of Lyons, or when the Pope (in the first millenium) celebrated solemnly on the four highest feasts in the year: Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, Ss. Peter and Paul (a custom that ceased in Rome in the high Middles Ages).

P. Villanueva, Blessing of the Chrism on Holy Thursday in the Lateran Basilica (ca. 1900)

Continue Reading this Article. . .

In Defense of Side Altars

Side altars in a splendid German neo-Baroque church: St. Anna in Altötting (built 1910-12)

A reader of NLM wrote to me:

I attended a conference in Rome in which a respected liturgist gave a talk about church art. He criticized the phenomenon of “side altars” as a deviation from early Christian practice. I’m not sure if there’s something online that defends not only private Masses for priests but also the architectural phenomenon of side altars, and why, further to that, it is okay for different Masses to be happening simultaneously in one church — say, the parish Mass and a priest’s (or priests’) private Masses.

The critique of side altars is, like so much else, an expression of unsophisticated antiquarianism and misplaced Byzantinophilia.

It is true that the Christian East has held on tightly (as they have done with so many features of worship) to the original architectural plan of a sanctuary centered on a single altar, which signifies Christ, the one and only High Priest and Mediator between God and Man. This is why the altar is dedicated and anointed, and later, kissed and incensed. Liturgy is celebrated solemnly in song once a day at this altar.

The symbolism is magnificent, yes, but it is not exhaustive of the possibilities of the cult of the saints and devotional liturgy, which were to develop prodigiously in the West. In the first millennium, side altars developed as a way to house the relics of the saints. Most side altars, even to this day, are associated with a particular saint or devotion, while the high altar retains an obvious primacy, prominence, and centrality for the solemn conventual Mass. As Enrico Finotti comments:

The side altar keeps its liturgical function intact and it is rather harmful to transmit to the faithful the idea that the emergence of the side altars is the sign of a decadent and incorrect phase of liturgical development. The side altars celebrate with amazing artistic expressions the wonderful fruits of the only Sacrifice of Christ: the Saints and their works. Their memory, erected in connection with the altar, affirms that from the Sacrifice of Christ they received the grace of their holiness and the efficacy of their witness. Wanting to deprive such monuments of the table [i.e., the mensa for offering Mass] is to disrupt them theologically from their divine source. The multiplicity of the side altars is the visual manifestation of the infinite prism of the fruits of the one Altar and of the only Sacrifice, Christ Jesus. This is why the side altars cannot be “museified,” but must remain “alive” with all their own signs, open to the exercise of their liturgical function.

In the West, with the general absence of concelebration, and with the proliferation of monastic and cathedral clergy, the custom arose of priests offering their own daily low Mass, a Missa lecta or Missa recitata or Missa privata — as still occurs in a number of traditional religious and clerical communities today. Therefore, quite apart from the cult of the saints, which requires suitably beautiful repositories for their relics, the essential defense of side altars rests on the legitimacy in itself, and the value for the Church, of the priest’s daily, individual, “devotional” offering of the Mass, over against the postconciliar imposition of the alien custom of concelebration in a feeble imitation of the East.[1]

Nor should it cause any surprise to recall that the claim that there should only be one altar in each church was specifically condemned by Pope Pius VI in the Bull Auctorem Fidei as one of the numerous errors of the Synod of Pistoia:

Propositio Synodi enuntians, conveniens esse, pro divinorum officiorum ordine et antiqua consuetudine, ut in unoquoque templo unum tantum sit altare, sibique adeo placere morem illum restituere: temeraria, perantiquo, pio, multis abhinc saeculis in Ecclesia, praesertim Latina, vigenti et probato mori iniuriosa.
       [The proposition of the synod enunciating that it is fitting, in accordance with the order of divine services and ancient custom, that there be only one altar in each church and, therefore, that it is pleased to restore that custom: rash, injurious to the very ancient pious custom flourishing and approved for these many centuries in the Church, especially in the Latin Church.] (Denzinger 2631)

In response to the reader’s question, let me mention that the definitive study has been written by the Carmelite priest Joseph de Sainte-Marie, OCD, The Holy Eucharist—The World’s Salvation. Studies on the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, its Celebration, and its Concelebration (reviewed here). I have defended the fittingness of the daily private Mass in chapter 10 of my book Resurgent in the Midst of Crisis (“The Loss of Graces: Private Masses and Concelebration”) and in two articles at NLM (“Celebration vs. Concelebration: Theological Considerations” and “The Mounting Threat of Coercive Concelebration”). Dr. Joseph Shaw has also made a contribution on this topic (“What Are Side Chapels For?”).

Once one admits the legitimacy of a priest offering his Mass each morning (when not otherwise engaged for public Mass), the existence of side altars is basically unavoidable, for the clergy cannot be reasonably accommodated otherwise.

In the monastery . . . 

. . . and during retreats or workshops . . .

. . . and at times of pilgrimage or international events.

From a symbolic point of view, it may not seem appropriate to have many priests offering many Masses at many altars in a church, as if this detracts from the unity of Christ, His priesthood, and His sacrifice. On the other hand, since symbolism cuts many ways, a counterargument can be made that the many offerings symbolize the multiplication of Christ’s priestly power in His ministers and into His Mystical Body, which has many members, all of which, being persons, are temples of the Holy Spirit. The very fact that the one all-sufficient sacrifice is renewed unbloodily at many altars glorifies and exalts the priestly power of Christ, who sanctifies all places and all times, giving rise to many springs from one reservoir, gathering all streams together in a measureless ocean. Moreover, it emphasizes the subordinate nature of the ministers and of the liturgy as compared with the one Mediator Himself and His heavenly self-offering “beyond the veil” in the true Holy of Holies. In other words, as we can see to be typical of Western liturgy, it both welcomes Christ into our midst and emphasizes, in obvious and subtle ways, the distance between the earthly realm and the heavenly kingdom, unlike the Eastern liturgy which tends to see the earthly liturgy as a direct reflection of and immediate participation in the heavenly kingdom.

I do not want to overemphasize this contrast, as one can find features of the Eastern liturgy that deeply express man’s fallen condition and his exile from heaven, just as there are aspects of the Western liturgy that symbolize or enact the union of earth with heaven (most notably, the “Supplices te rogamus” of the Roman Canon). We also find Sacrosanctum Concilium giving prominence to this point, in a paragraph that would become all but unintelligible in the wake of the Consilium’s reform:

In the earthly liturgy we take part in a foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God, a minister of the holies and of the true tabernacle; we sing a hymn to the Lord’s glory with all the warriors of the heavenly army; venerating the memory of the saints, we hope for some part and fellowship with them; we eagerly await the Savior, Our Lord Jesus Christ, until He, our life, shall appear and we too will appear with Him in glory. (n. 8)

Two, then, can play this game of symbolism. A symbolic argument will never, by itself, be sufficiently determinate to decide between two conflicting practices. One has to justify any liturgical practice based on theological, spiritual, pastoral, and aesthetic arguments — not simply on the basis of archaic practice or Eastern practice or a modern penchant for simplicity, which usually comes out as horizontal, democratic, undifferentiated, and plain, when not ugly.

As for side altars, we may well say: in the East, anathema sit; in the West, “multiply and fill the earth.”

Stift Wilten (Norbertine) in Innsbruck

St. Gallus, Bregenz (h/t Fr Jerabek)

NOTE

[1] Additionally to the question of relics, there is another major motivator for the creation of side-altars, which really takes off in the age of the canons regular (who emerge as a major force within the Church in the 12th century) and the mendicants (13th century): since they were largely an urban phenomenon, and did not have stable foundations based on owning land, as monks did, canons regular and mendicants had to provide for themselves from their apostolic works; as St Paul says in 1 Timothy 5:18, “the worker is worthy of his wage.” Within a large house of (e.g.) Dominicans like Santa Maria Novella in Florence, each side-altar was privately owned by a family, who paid for everything, including all the accoutrements necessary for saying Mass, and the priest’s salary. All the Masses were therefore said for that family’s intentions. This was one of the things that made the apostolic ministry of such communities possible, and in addition, gave us a lot of really amazing art, since the families that could afford their own chapel could generally also afford to hire the best artists to decorate it.

Visit Dr. Kwasniewski’s website for articles, sacred music, and classics reprinted by Os Justi Press (e.g., Newman, Benson, Scheeben, Parsch, Guardini, Chaignon, Leen, Roguet, Croegaert), his SoundCloud page for lectures and interviews, and his YouTube channel for talks and sacred music.

Resisting the Lowest Common Denominator: A Priest’s Cri de Coeur

Jesus did not settle for the LCD

A priest shared with me some insights from a meeting he attended of diocesan priests with their bishop. In what follows, I will be drawing upon what he told me.

In the meeting, the bishop said that the clergy should work against the temptation to settle for the “LCD,” the lowest common denominator. For, if we allow every member of the clergy to “roam free,” as it were, and aspire to no diocesan-wide standards of excellence, the principle of entropy, or we could just say man’s fallen nature, tells us that things will tend to roll down hill and decay over time, and eventually — at some point not too far down the road — every parish will face immense pressure to conform to this LCD: whatever options are least confrontational, most politically correct, and most socially acceptable will eventually win the day. It takes real vision to see this inevitable outcome and to combat it from the start. Free choice can be attractive, but ultimately results in division and degradation.

The priest then reflected: this is exactly what I and many brother priests have seen clearly happening with the liturgy. Because of the equivocal nature of the Missal of Paul VI, which leaves so much at the disposal of the celebrant, we have quickly slid to the LCD in every area where there is legitimate free choice. In other words, there is no free choice within the system.

For example:

1. A priest is free to celebrate ad orientem or versus populum — in fact, the Missal presumes celebrating ad orientem, which would put us in harmony with the rest of Tradition. But because of the LCD factor, only versus populum is acceptable. Any priest who chooses to celebrate ad orientem is seen as divisive, and is eventually pressured into conforming, unless he wants to be ostracized not only from the faithful, but even from his bishop and brother priests. But is it the priest who is the source of division? Or is it the freedom to choose either option that creates the division? It is the inevitable result of the LCD factor. Priests are accused of fighting what are called “the liturgy wars,” but are they to be blamed, or does the blame not rest squarely on the shoulders of Paul VI and his ambivalent Missal?

2. A priest is free to incorporate as much Latin as he would like. But because of the LCD, de facto only the vernacular is possible — despite the anathema from the Council of Trent: “If anyone says . . . that the Mass ought to be celebrated in the vernacular tongue only . . . let him be anathema.”

3. A priest is free to incorporate the Extraordinary Form into his parish, or his ministry, but again because of the LCD factor, this is seen as extreme and rigid, and is frowned upon to the point where it is de facto nearly impossible.

4. A priest is under no obligation to concelebrate and is perfectly free to choose to assist in choir so as to be able to celebrate his own Mass, a custom hallowed by many centuries of tradition in the Roman Rite and clearly allowed by the new Code of Canon Law. But de facto, there is immense pressure upon him to concelebrate because of the LCD factor, and to not conform results in receiving the label of being “not community-minded.” At some large gatherings for retreats or conventions or meetings, there is literally no possibility of a private Mass unless you bring your own altar, since such things are no longer even contemplated.

5. A priest is supposed to use a communion paten and not use EMHC’s except under extraordinary circumstances, but because of systemic habitual abuse in the American Church and the LCD factor, doing either of these things would be seen as extreme. The pragmatic norm, on the contrary, is to not have a communion paten but to insist on having EMHC’s.

6. The faithful are encouraged to receive Holy Communion on the tongue which is the traditional custom and still the universal norm as per the Vatican; meanwhile, they are permitted to receive in the hand as long as certain serious conditions are met. But because of the LCD factor, somewhere between 95–98% of the faithful receive in the hand. And everywhere, children receiving First Communion are not even taught the traditional practice, in spite of it still being “on the books.”

7. The same can be said of sacred music, church architecture, sacred vessels, vestments, preaching, etc., etc., etc. We are all now forced by social pressure to conform to the LCD. And what happens when a priest doesn’t want to conform to the LCD but wants to raise the bar? Well, typically the choice is either: conform to the LCD, or hit the highway. The dynamic subtly eats away at the bishop’s own integrity, because when he is confronted with complaints about a “difficult” or “demanding” priest — as identified promptly by Susan from the Parish Council — he must either stick his neck out and risk his reputation to defend the priest, or take the quieter path of pressuring the priest to conform to the LCD or be removed.

It is as if everyone is under the spell of the LCD. Such is the division that has been sown into the heart of the Church, and especially into the heart of the priesthood and religious life, by the Missal of Paul VI.

Order — or Disorder?

The laity need to understand this phenomenon if they wish to grasp why so many faithful priests who want to celebrate in harmony with tradition, and want the faithful to experience the fullness of this rich treasure that we have as Catholics, are afraid to do so, or perhaps suffer a crisis when the tension between their ideals and the LCD reality becomes too intense. Some think that there is a huge conspiracy that planned all this, and certainly this may be true, since no doubt the cunning of the devil is involved. But it can also be explained as the result of societal entropy. Because of original sin, everything tends towards decay, as we see in the movies, music, and media of our culture. The Church is immune from this decay only in her divine element; she is by no means immune to it in her human element, unless her members fight consciously and vigorously against it. The traditional liturgy had long been a barrier against this natural process, but the new Mass has let this process into the Church like a flood.

This “Trojan horse in the City of God” (to use the expression of the great Dietrich von Hildebrand), this Trojan horse in the sanctuary in the form of a new Mass, did not spring up out of nowhere. Its principles had been brewing among modernist theologians and their heirs, the theologians of the nouvelle théologie, expressed in the false distinction made by Fr. Yves Congar between the “unalterable structures” of the Church and the “accessory, changeable superstructures.”

But this mentality is nothing less than a betrayal of a mystical person, as one lover of tradition so poetically expressed it:

I do not love a skeleton nor vital organs, I love Her face, Her sparkling clothes and even Her sandals, Her entire being. With the spiritual canticle I will sing of the hair on Her neck that charmed us as well, her children, as it ravished the heart of her Spouse. Oh, may those who love the Church understand! In her features and her slightest gestures, something indescribably exquisite enraptures us to the summit of her essential Mystery. The liturgical movements, the hymns, the ornamentation of churches, the words of the catechism and the sermon, this flesh, this manner of walking, the sound of the voice, the color of the eyes, revealed the very soul, immediately, and we were struck, intoxicated by it, for Her ancient and universal soul, Her intimate life that came to comfort us, was the Holy Spirit in Person! [1]

This is the reverence that a Catholic should have towards the received rites that come down to us from tradition, and all of their ornamentation. But the new Mass incarnates the false principle of Fr. Congar by deliberately tossing all of this out of the window in a massive overhaul, giving the impression to faithful Catholics and to the world that the Catholic Faith can change its entire appearance. Since changing the so-called “accessory, changeable superstructures,” we have become painfully aware that they were instead an important part of the solid rock that formed our sure foundation, or to use the above imagery, the beautiful wedding garments of Holy Mother Church, so visibly radiant in her sacred rites. And now we find ourselves upon a foundation of sand, always shifting, and — if we are willing to be honest with ourselves — a foundation always eroding down to the LCD, again and again, like a bird with a broken wing that can only manage to throw itself a few inches, or an airplane with faulty engines that rises up from the runway only to crash just beyond it.

My correspondent concluded with this cri de coeur:

If other priests want to accept the status quo, the tyranny of the LCD, that is their decision, between them and God. Perhaps not everyone needs to fight on the front lines and resist usque ad sanguinem. But for us whose hearts belong to the Church of all times, and to her traditional rites, we seek nothing more than to access them in freedom, nothing else than to live and die with them, nothing other than to nourish the faithful with this potent food and drink. May God raise up more and more priests with such a heart.

NOTE

[1] From the Abbé Georges de Nantes’s “Letter to My Friends,” no. 178, August 6, 1964. Like Padre Pio, de Nantes was reacting to the devastation already being visited on the Tridentine Mass in the mid-sixties, prior to the coup de grâce of 1969. See here for the quotation as well as the mention of Congar.

Visit www.peterkwasniewski.com for articles, sacred music, and classics reprinted by Os Justi Press (e.g., Benson, Scheeben, Parsch, Guardini, Chaignon, Leen).

The Mounting Threat of Coercive Concelebration

I have been hearing from clergy who are telling me that, within their religious communities, in schools or houses of formation, in parishes, and in other situations, the campaign is intensifying to forbid priests from offering their own daily Masses (when they are otherwise free of obligations to celebrate Mass with and for a congregation) and to compel them to concelebrate with confreres. We first got wind of this back in July 2017 when a document circulating around Colleges in Rome attempted to intimidate clergy into concelebrating, contrary to their canonical rights. The inimitable Fr. Hunwicke commented on it and related matters extensively in a series called “Concelebration in the Roman Colleges.”

Clearly, the modernists and progressivists are fuming and plotting against the young priests going to side altars to “say Mass,” or the parochial vicars who set up dignified altars in their rooms for their day off, or the clergy who with curious consistency absent themselves from the sacramental jamborees that pass for special occasions like the Chrism Mass. They can see the writing on the wall. There comes a time when the threat of tradition becomes felt in earnest, and all kindness, real or simulated, is laid aside. It is indeed a threat to the postconciliar house of cards that many have substituted for the rock-solid Church of Christ and its perennial doctrine and liturgy.

The older generation, still paddling and sputtering in a lake of Kool Aid, wants to thwart the revival of private Masses [1] above all because these Masses are so often in the usus antiquior. Thus, two canonical offenses are committed at once: an action against the Code of Canon Law, and an action against the motu proprio Summorum Pontificum and its authoritative applications in Universae Ecclesiae.

Let us, them, be as clear as we can be. It is impossible to force a priest to concelebrate, even to establish that he should “as a rule” do so. It is still more impossible to exclude the usus antiquior for a priest’s “private” Mass — that is, when he is not scheduled to offer Mass in public with a congregation. [2]

1. Canon 902 guarantees the right of each priest to celebrate individually with the sole condition that the individual offering of the Holy Mass not take place in the same church or oratory in which another concelebration is taking place. (NB: Some English translations simply say “in which another celebration is taking place.” The Latin, however, is clear: non vero eo tempore, quo in eadem ecclesia aut oratorio concelebratio habetur.) Thus, having many simultaneous Masses at side altars is fully permissible even according to the 1983 Code.

2. Canon 904 recommends the daily offering of the Holy Mass by priests “since, even if the faithful cannot be present, it is the act of Christ and the Church in which priests fulfill their principal office [munus].” The standard English translation of the 1983 Code translates munus as “function” in this canon, which translation is not felicitous.

3. Canon 906 prohibits a priest from offering the Holy Mass “without the participation of at least some member of the faithful” — “except for a just and reasonable cause.” It is clear from context that the fulfillment of the recommendation of Canon 904, that is, the recommended daily offering of the Holy Mass by priests, is a just and reasonable cause.

4. These canonical points are well supported by n. 31 of the Encyclical Letter Ecclesia de Eucharistia of John Paul II, which says, inter alia:

If the Eucharist is the center and summit of the Church’s life, it is likewise the center and summit of priestly ministry. For this reason, with a heart filled with gratitude to our Lord Jesus Christ, I repeat that the Eucharist “is the principal and central raison d’être of the sacrament of priesthood, which effectively came into being at the moment of the institution of the Eucharist.” … We can understand, then, how important it is for the spiritual life of the priest, as well as for the good of the Church and the world, that priests follow the Council’s recommendation to celebrate the Eucharist daily: “for even if the faithful are unable to be present, it is an act of Christ and the Church.” In this way priests will be able to counteract the daily tensions which lead to a lack of focus and they will find in the Eucharistic sacrifice — the true center of their lives and ministry — the spiritual strength needed to deal with their different pastoral responsibilities. Their daily activity will thus become truly Eucharistic.

5. They are also supported by n. 80 of the Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation Sacramentum Caritatis of Benedict XVI:

The Eucharistic form of the Christian life is seen in a very special way in the priesthood. Priestly spirituality is intrinsically Eucharistic. … An intense spiritual life will enable him [the priest] to enter more deeply into communion with the Lord and to let himself be possessed by God’s love, bearing witness to that love at all times, even the darkest and most difficult. To this end, I join the Synod Fathers in recommending “the daily celebration of Mass, even when the faithful are not present” (Propositio 38). This recommendation is consistent with the objectively infinite value of every celebration of the Eucharist, and is motivated by the Mass’s unique spiritual fruitfulness. If celebrated in a faith-filled and attentive way, Mass is formative in the deepest sense of the word, since it fosters the priest’s configuration to Christ and strengthens him in his vocation.

Both of these magisterial documents renew the recommendation of the daily offering of the Holy Mass even when a member of the faithful cannot be present. It is, of course, important always to bear in mind that the Holy Mass is never in fact offered “alone,” for there is always the participation of the choirs of angels and of the communion of the saints.

6. In connection with the Mass of Paul VI, The General Instruction of the Roman Missal provides rubrics for the offering of Holy Mass when only one minister participates (nn. 252–272), and for the offering of Holy Mass without the participation of a minister (n. 254). There would be no point in furnishing such rubrics were this situation not anticipated as a normal occurrence in the life of clergy.

Priests who find themselves victims of the attempt to exclude private Mass or to require concelebration should resist by respectfully — and, if necessary, repeatedly, and in writing [3] — pointing out the provisions in Church law, as summarized above, avoiding attribution of motives or rancor, and leaving the judgment of hearts to Almighty God. Since we know there are wicked men in high places, at times this self-defense may precipitate a larger confrontation. Such confrontations are never pleasant affairs but they can be occasions of greatly-needed clarification on the limits of authority and obedience, and even moments of grace in discerning whether a given pastoral or community situation is sustainable over the long term.

A number of good men in high places have given this advice to individuals: Be strong and stand your ground: esto vir, esto sacerdos Christi. No one ever has a right to contradict universal legislation. As long as that legislation remains in force, and no exceptions have been expressly granted by law, it is binding on all without exception. This has always been the mind of the Church.


NOTES

[1] I am aware of the limitations of the term “private Mass,” especially because any Mass is a social and public act by its very nature, but it is still a useful term, the meaning of which everyone readily grasps.

[2] The recent letter of the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta similarly violates the rights of laity and clergy.

[3] Bullies rarely want to write anything down on paper, because they either know or have an intuition that if they write down their demands, they can be challenged canonically, and defeated or embarrassed. So a key defense is to insist that any demand or request be put into writing, so that one can be certain of what is being requested and why. If they will not do so, then one can claim one did not understand what they were asking or had not been given a sufficient reason or had doubts in one’s conscience about the validity of their requests, etc.

Visit www.peterkwasniewski.com for events, articles, sacred music, and classics reprinted by Os Justi Press (e.g., Benson, Scheeben, Parsch, Guardini, Chaignon, Leen).

On the Participation of the Clergy in a Non-Concelebrated Mass

Some time ago, a reader and I corresponded about a question that may be of interest to NLM readers more generally. The reader was a priest who had recently learned to offer Mass in the Extraordinary Form and who, seeing more clearly that “the priest is ordained to offer sacrifice,” had arrived at a more critical position regarding concelebration. He wrote to me (and I quote with his permission):

In light of my preparation for the Traditional Latin Mass and in light of Resurgent in the Midst of Crisis, my attitude toward concelebration has shifted. Any Ordinary Form Mass with a bishop as celebrant is an appropriate time for concelebration because of the unique theological relationship priests have with their bishops. In addition, in parishes with more than one priest, the Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper, the Easter Vigil, primary Mass on Christmas, parish feast day, etc. could be concelebrated. Also for funerals. But not as a matter of course, like the daily community Mass in a monastery or seminary.
          I truly appreciated my week at Our Lady of Guadalupe Seminary in Denton, Nebraska. There the FSSP priests hammered home that “the priest is ordained to offer sacrifice.” Upon arrival, each of us student priests received a schedule for the daily private Mass, with time, altar, and seminarian server lined out for the entire week. (They have the Novus Ordo books on hand, and the server knows he will be serving Mass in the OF.) What was great was actually saying Mass each day. What a joy, too! I was not in front of hundreds “wowing” them with my eloquent homily; I was being genuinely and deeply priestly, and letting the floodgates of Divine Mercy flow upon myself, anyone living and deceased I included in the intentions, and any that the server had, and any that the Father in Heaven desired for the sake of His Son’s sorrowful passion as He “received the sacrifice at [my] hands for the praise and glory of his name, for our good and the good of all his holy Church.”

Instead of automatically concelebrating at a clergy gathering, he went on to say, he now prefers to attend in choro or in the nave, while making time elsewhere in the day for offering a private Mass. This, I gather, is the thinking and praxis prevailing among many of the clergy, especially the younger set, as they come to see the fallacious historical research and the superficial theology on which the “revival” of concelebration was based, and as they experience in their own lives the abuses to which concelebration so often leads as well as the spiritual fruits of individual daily celebration.[1] My correspondent continued:

What I am now moved to explore is the phenomenon of the non-celebrant priest present at Mass. Since with the priesthood of the baptized, every baptized person present at Mass offers, in a way, the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross as well as the sacrifice of oneself with Christ to the Father, does concelebration make any difference for ordained priests who are present at Masses they are not offering as celebrants? To rephrase the question, does a priest concelebrating at a Mass in the Ordinary Form exercise a higher level of efficacy or enjoy a greater access to sacramental graces than a priest assisting at a Mass in either form in the pew, in choir, or serving (in the EF) as deacon, subdeacon, assistant priest, master of ceremonies, etc.? The question amounts to this: Does a priest who merely attends a Mass rather than celebrating it participate in a qualitatively different way than a layman does?

I answered along the following lines.

It seems to me true that a priest is called to the altar of God every day, if possible, to represent and act on behalf of Christ the High Priest, and to offer the holy sacrifice for himself and for the people. Obviously, concelebration is not wrong in itself, and there are times when it seems to be called for, but to make it into a general or normative practice is certainly a deviation from the organic development of the Roman Church, and I am glad that so many are rethinking it and rediscovering how a priest may fruitfully pray “in choir” (though not in substitution for his daily Mass).

Concelebration is an exercise of the ministerial priesthood in a way that praying “in choir” is not, since the latter participation in the sacrifice is not essentially different from the way in which a layman participates—namely, by uniting himself spiritually with the priest who is actually offering at the altar, and in that way, uniting himself with Christ. The priest is ordained to offer sacrifice in persona Christi, but when he assists at Mass not as the offerer, he is not exercising this specific power, which is manifested and actualized in the consecration.

Serving as a deacon, on the other hand, is a distinctive way of participating in the liturgy which can neither simply be reduced to a layman’s participation nor made equivalent to a priest’s. The subdeacon presents a special case, because a layman can, in a pinch, serve as a “straw” subdeacon,[2] and also because the status of the subdiaconate is somewhat perplexing in these days when we are suspended between the OF world (where the ministry no longer exists) and the EF world (where it definitely exists). It is one among many questions for which a future solution will need to be found.

So, in short, I would say:

1. The priest offering Mass (whether celebrating or concelebrating) is doing something unique, to which no other ministry can compare.
2. The priest assisting at Mass as a deacon or subdeacon, or the deacon or subdeacon in their respective capacities, is participating in a manner subordinate to that of the priest but still with an exercise of major or minor orders that is distinctive to him and in which the laity do not share.
3. The priest assisting at Mass “in choro” is participating in the Mass as the laity do, but with external marks of honor, such as cassock, surplice, and stole, to convey his difference in identity and his proper place in the hierarchical communion of the Church.

That is what I feel able to say, but it is a question with many interesting ramifications and implications to it. I would certainly value comments from any readers who have light to shed or further speculations on any aspect of the matter.

Hierarchical participation in the one Sacrifice

NOTES

[1] For more on the entirely non-Roman novelty of modern concelebration, see here; for more on how it differs from the Byzantine practice to which it is erroneously compared, see here; for more on its spiritual disadvantages, see here.

[2] Contrary to some reports, there is no definitive judgment from the PCED that the long-standing custom of the “straw subdeacon” may never be followed. It happens regularly in Ecclesia Dei communities and shows no signs of abating. It could have been officially stopped if that was thought to be necessary or important.

Concelebration Tomorrow - From Dom Alcuin Reid’s Foreword to “The Holy Eucharist - The World’s Salvation”

Peter Kwasniewski just published a notice and review of “The Holy Eucharist—The World’s Salvation. Studies on the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, its Celebration, and its Concelebration,” by Fr. Joseph de Sainte Marie OCD. This is the long-awaited translation of a work originally published over thirty years ago, not long before the author’s death, which Peter describes as “the most important book ever to appear in English on the subject of concelebration.” It appears in this new edition from Gracewing Publishers with a foreword by Dom Alcuin Reid, OSB, entitled “Concelebration Today, Yesterday and Tomorrow”.

In the first part of this foreword, under the subtitle Concelebration Today, Dom Alcuin outlines the many (and sadly common) abuses which have become almost part and parcel of the practice of concelebration as done in the modern Roman Rite. The second part, Concelebration Yesterday, summarizes Fr de Sainte Marie’s extensive research into the history of concelebration, and particularly “his identification of the profound historical error on the origins and practice of sacramental concelebration that was contained in the materials and draft texts presented to the Fathers of the Council.” This would lead to the approval of paragraph 57 of Sacrosanctum Concilium, of which Dom Alcuin writes, “the historical error in respect of both Eastern and Western liturgical history contained in article 57 § 1, which forms part of the premise for the reform authorised, is an embarrassment of the first order (as Father de Sainte-Marie makes perfectly clear). It was, nevertheless, an error that was widely accepted and promoted.”

We here reproduce the final section, Concelebration Tomorrow, with the kind permission of Dom Alcuin and Gracewing.

Father de Sainte-Marie’s principal concern is the theological and pastoral impoverishment of the life of priests and of the Church through the reduction of the number of Masses offered as a direct result of the unforeseen spread of concelebration. “Which manner of celebrating the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass can be the source for the greatest glory of God and for the greatest treasury of redeeming graces for the Church?” he asks, insisting that “the need for the latter in today’s world explains the urgency of this question.”

His questions, surely, remain pertinent. So too, his exegesis of the conciliar reform and text is sound. Father de Sainte Marie is not opposed to the Council’s permission for concelebration on more occasions, indeed he himself made appropriate use of it in his priestly life. What concerns him profoundly is the radical reduction in the number of Masses being offered. For:

Each Mass, being the very sacrifice of Christ, the one redemptive sacrifice of Calvary, has an infinite value. Each Mass is an act of the entire Church; for, she is present there both in Christ, Who offers Himself for her as her Head, and in the priest, who represents her, and prays for her and in her name… It is this which establishes the value of Masses said ‘privately,’ that is, those celebrated by a priest in the absence of any assistants: each Mass pours the redemptive Blood of Christ upon the Church and the whole world.
While each Mass has in itself an infinite value, the dispositions of men for receiving its fruits are always imperfect and in this sense limited. For this reason the number of celebrations of the Mass is so important for multiplying the fruits of salvation.

If he is right – both historically and theologically – it is high time that we look again at the practice of concelebration as it has become today. Before it is asserted that ‘universal concelebration’ is now customary, let us remember Saint Cyprian of Carthage’s adage, consuetudo sine veritate vetustas erroris est (custom without truth is simply error grown old. Letter to Pompeius, 73/9). Before this error grows too old, it is necessary to revisit it with theological, historical and liturgical truth.

This The Holy Eucharist – The World’s Salvation most certainly does. Since its original publication there has been much talk of a “reform of the liturgical reform,” and of a “new liturgical movement.” That the practice of concelebration be reviewed in the light of the abuses to which it has given rise and which the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council most certainly could not have imagined they were authorising – most especially large-scale concelebrations which situate priests at great distances from the altar, and the indignity and indecorous behaviours in priests which such events often bring forth – is surely an important element of such liturgical renewal.

In such a review competent authority may wish to consider the implications of the erroneous historical assumptions in article 57 § 1 of Sacrosanctum Concilium. Experience of concelebration since the Council, and theological arguments such as those of Father de Sainte-Marie, might even suggest a prudent restriction of its practice in the future. Formation “in the spirit and power of the liturgy” itself, and specifically on why and how priests can and should offer Mass privately and on how they can assist at Mass when not concelebrating, would seem urgently to be necessary in many places. It may even be appropriate for the competent authority to modify the rite of the ordination of priests and the blessing of abbots in the Pontificale of the usus antiquior of the Roman rite to ensure sacramental concelebration on those occasions.

Let concelebration in the Roman rite tomorrow be what the Council truly intended: an occasional, edifying and dignified rite by modest or at least manageable numbers of priests. And let the Church of today and tomorrow continue to benefit from more and more devout and, where necessary, individual celebrations of Holy Mass – something the Second Vatican Council never intended to abolish – for the Holy Eucharist is indeed the world’s salvation.

Joseph de Sainte-Marie, OCD. The Holy Eucharist—The World’s Salvation. Studies on the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, its Celebration, and its Concelebration. With a Foreword by Dom Alcuin Reid, OSB. Leominster: Gracewing, 2015. xxxix + 557 pp. Available from Amazon (USA $40, UK £25, Germany €38) or the publisher.

Book Notice: The Definitive Study of Concelebration

Joseph de Sainte-Marie, OCD. The Holy Eucharist—The World’s Salvation. Studies on the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, its Celebration, and its Concelebration. With a Foreword by Dom Alcuin Reid, OSB. Leominster: Gracewing, 2015. xxxix + 557 pp. Available from Amazon (USA $40, UK £25, Germany €38) or the publisher.

Let me begin with the bottom line. This is the most important book ever to appear in English on the subject of concelebration. It ought to be read by every bishop, priest, religious, teacher of liturgy, and seminary formator, and absolutely anyone with a desire to learn about this complex and sometimes contentious issue.

Fr. Joseph de Sainte-Marie (1931–1985), a professor and specialist in Carmelite spirituality at the Pontifical Theological Faculty ‘Teresianum’ in Rome, published this substantial collection of his writings in 1982, only a few years before his death. One may regret that it has taken over 30 years for an English translation to appear — or better, one may rejoice that it has finally come out for the benefit of those who do not read French. Lest a nearly 600-page tome prompt any dismay, I hasten to repeat that this is a gathering together of a dozen finely-chiseled essays on the Mass and the Holy Eucharist, with special attention to concelebration. Most of the essays could be read in one sitting; the lovely style of writing and the vigorous argumentation make the book hard to put down once begun!

While this book contains eloquent essays on the Mass as a true and proper sacrifice, the sacramental system, and the relationship of sacrifice and banquet, far the greater part of its bulk is given over to a careful, systematic, and exhaustive study of concelebration under every aspect — historical, liturgical, theological, pastoral, magisterial. For example, Fr. Joseph de Sainte-Marie provides a detailed synopsis of the elements of the question as they make their appearance in the ancient and medieval periods down through the twentieth century Liturgical Movement and into the Second Vatican Council; he sifts all the pertinent texts of and interventions at the Council to establish just what was being proposed, debated, changed, agreed to, and subsequently applied or misapplied; he compares and contrasts Eastern and Western practices; he patiently gathers evidence to show the ways in which agenda-driven reasoning and sleight-of-hand were employed to put across a novel reinterpretation of concelebration and to ensure its enforcement.

The author reaches many important conclusions in this work of highly readable scholarship. Among the more immediately practical conclusions are: (1) although concelebration is licit and occasionally opportune, particularly when the presbyterate is led in worship by the bishop, it was never historically, and should not now be, the normal or default mode of offering the Mass; (2) much of our contemporary theory and praxis are based on a fundamentally flawed concept of what concelebration historically was—a flaw that found its way into the Council debates and subsequent implementation; (3) in either sacramental or ceremonial concelebration, no differently than in a ‘private’ Mass, one sole Mass is offered to God; (4) because “each Mass pours the redemptive Blood of Christ upon the Church and the whole world,” the Church and the world benefit from a multiplication of Masses and suffer loss from their reduction; (5) it can be demonstrated from documents of Tradition and of the Magisterium that the Church herself greatly desires that Masses be thus multiplied; (6) habitual reliance on or presumed choice of concelebration constitutes a genuine liturgical abuse. These statements are, of course, conclusions, and therefore they must emerge from valid argumentation based on thoroughly evaluated evidence. Fr. Joseph de Sainte-Marie takes nothing for granted and establishes each of these conclusions with rigorous research and argumentation that goes far beyond anything I have seen when reading on this question.[1]

It is an exhilarating, sometimes distressing, and always enlightening work, one that is written by a priest who is deeply in love with our Lord Jesus Christ in the most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. Indeed, he makes it clear that his motivation for the painstaking work that went into his studies is a desire to give glory to God and sanctify souls through the sacrifice of the Mass, coupled with an anxiety (quite legitimate, as anyone who takes up the book will discover) that leaders in the Church had been both deceiving and deceived as they walked down a path of innovation, inversion, and incoherence.

Let me sum up my enthusiasm for The Holy Eucharist—The World’s Salvation: if you have any interest at all in the question of concelebration or in the manner of its current practice in the Latin Rite, you would do yourself an immense favor to get this book and read, for starters, the Foreword by Dom Alcuin Reid (pp. xvii–xxxix) and chapter 1 by the author (pp. 3–27). As you find yourself brought to a greater depth of awareness of the issues, an appropriate subtlety of discernment, and a new strength of practical judgment, you will wonder how we managed to get anywhere before this book was in our hands.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction (xi)
Foreword (xvii)

Part I: A Disputed Question
1. Reflections and Questions on the Subject of Concelebration (3)
2. A Critical Note on a ‘Theology of Concelebration’ (29)
3. Concelebration: Sensus Fidei and Theology (81)

Part II: The Historical Inquiry
4. Concelebration: The History of a History (123)
5. Concelebration: An Historical Summary (179)
6. Eucharistic Concelebration in the Magisterium of the Second Vatican Council (203)
7. ‘Useless and Superfluous Masses’ (273)
8. The Church Asks for the Multiplication of Masses (297)

Part III: Theological Reflection
9. ‘Sacrificium Missae’ (323)
10. The Liturgy: Mystery, Symbol, and Sacrament (355)
11. The Mass: Meal, ‘Blessing’, Congregation, or Sacrifice? (425)
12. The Celebration and Multiplication of the Sacrifice (483)

Conclusion (539)

The back cover

Sample pages

NOTE

[1] Having given much thought to this matter (see "The Loss of Graces: Private Masses and Concelebration" in Resurgent in the Midst of Crisis, and the NLM article "Celebration versus Concelebration: Theological Considerations"), I was overjoyed to find in Fr. Joseph de Sainte-Marie an author who pursues the inquiry with an unprecedented breadth and depth.

Concelebration in the Byzantine Rite

Pursuant to Dr Kwasniewski’s recent post on concelebration in the Roman Rite, I would here like to offer some considerations on the way it is done in the Byzantine Rite.

Chesterton once noted, in his inimitable way, that for the student of comparative religion, “Christianity and Buddhism are very much alike, especially Buddhism.” This applies equally well to students of comparative liturgy, who often note that the Roman and Byzantine Rites are very much alike, especially the Byzantine. What I mean by this is that comparisons between the two are rarely made in appreciation of the fullness of what they have in common, (or, for that matter, the fullness of what they do not have in common), but rather to drag them down to their lowest common denominator. And of course, from time to time the denominator sinks lower than the math should properly allow; a friend of mine once heard in a class at a Pontifical university that the Latin Church simply had to abolish the subdiaconate, because the Byzantines don’t have it, much to the surprise of the two Byzantine subdeacons in the room.

Concelebration is a perfect example of this. The mere fact that it is the norm in the Byzantine tradition is often adduced to justify the introduction of the practice into the Roman Rite, with little or no elaboration on how exactly the Byzantines go about their concelebrating. I propose therefore to list some points on which the Byzantine practice differs notably from the modern Roman practice. Let me add that I am not writing this as a way of arguing that concelebration should be abolished, or that it should be reduced to the status which it has in the Extraordinary Form, in which it is done only at priestly and episcopal ordinations. I do believe, as do a great many others, that concelebration should be a lot rarer than it is today. I also think it not only reasonable, but inevitable, that many priests, especially younger ones, have become rather disaffected with the practice, since as currently observed in the Roman Rite, it minimizes the role of the concelebrating priest in a way that is very far indeed from what the Byzantines do.

I also wish to make it clear that I am fully aware of the fact that there is a not an absolute uniformity of liturgical practice among those who use the Byzantine liturgy, whether Catholic and Orthodox. What I write here is based on my experience of serving and attending the Divine Liturgy at the Russian College in Rome. On the other hand, it is very common for visiting priests from the different Eastern Catholic Churches to concelebrate at the Russicum, and I have never yet observed any of them thrown off by the small differences between its customs and what they are familiar with in their home churches.

1. All of the concelebrating priests wear the full complement of priestly vestments. In the Roman Rite, this is supposed to be the case as well, but “for a just cause”, (for example, when there are more concelebrants than vestments), it is permitted for some to wear only an alb and stole. (GIRM parag. 209) The vagueness of this rubric has, perhaps inevitably, lead to a common abuse by which, regardless of the circumstances, only the principal celebrant wears a chasuble, and all of the concelebrants wear only the stole, an abuse now so widespread and of such long standing that it has fallen into the category of “tolerated” abuses.

2. The Proskomide, the preparation of the bread and wine before the Liturgy, is done by one of the concelebrants, who then does a general incensation of the gifts, the altar, the sanctuary, etc. in the same manner as is done by another of the concelebrants at the Epistle, again by the main celebrant before the Great Entrance, and at the major Hours of the Divine Office. However, each of the concelebrants cuts a small triangular piece off one of the prosphoras, the small loaves of leavened bread which are used in the Byzantine Rite, and places it on the diskos (the equivalent of the paten.) In the modern Roman practice, the Preparation of the Gifts which has taken the place of the traditional Offertory is done entirely by the main celebrant, and the concelebrants do nothing at all. (GIRM parag. 214)

3. During the Divine Liturgy, all of the priests stand together at the altar; each has his own book by which he follows the rite, and each says all of the silent priestly prayers from his book. The priests take turns singing the conclusions to these prayers out loud after the Litanies, starting with the main celebrant. In the absence of a deacon, the priests take the deacon’s parts, and therefore also sing the Litanies, each in his turn; in this case, the concelebrant who sings a Litany and the main celebrant bow to each other both before and after. In the modern Roman Rite, after kissing the altar and taking their places at the sedilia, the concelebrants do nothing besides listen during the whole Liturgy of the Word, unless there is no one else present to do readings, the responsorial psalm, etc.; one of them may be delegated to deliver the sermon.

A deacon carrying the Gospel book during the Little Entrance. (source)

4. All of the concelebrants participate in the Little Entrance, the procession by which the Gospel book is carried out the side door of the iconostasis and back in through the Royal Doors in the middle. After returning to stand around the altar, they all kiss it together before repairing to the sedilia for the Epistle. While the Epistle is sung, a concelebrant, not the main celebrant, does the general incensation. In the absence of a deacon, the Gospel is sung by the main celebrant. In the modern Roman Rite, the Gospel is read or sung by a concelebrant if there is no deacon present. (The rubric of the Latin version of the GIRM is somewhat vague here, and does not seem to prescribe this absolutely.)

5. At the Great Entrance, the main celebrant carries the diskos and chalice; if another diskos is used for other prosphoras, it is carried by one of the concelebrants. Each other priest carries an instrument from the altar with him at the Great Entrance; facing the people, each priest, starting of course with the main celebrant, sings an intention, and blesses the people with the instrument in his hand. (For example, “May the Lord God remember in his kingdom all Christians throughout the world who suffer persecution, always, now and forever and ever. Amen.”)

6. During the Creed, which is sung at every Divine Liturgy, they exchange the Kiss of Peace among themselves in such a way the every single priest offers it to every single other one. The celebrant kisses the diskos and chalice, which are both covered by a veil, then the altar, and takes his place standing slightly away from the altar. The second concelebrant kisses the diskos, chalice and altar in the same way, then exchanges the kiss of peace with the main celebrant, on both cheeks, and then by simultaneously kissing each other’s right hands; he then stands next to the first. The third does the same, and after exchanging the Peace with the first and second, takes his place, and so on. In the Roman Rite, it is also mandatory according to the letter of the GIRM for all of the celebrants to exchange the Peace amongst themselves; this is done of course at a different point in the Liturgy, after the Lord’s Prayer and the Libera nos.

His Beatitude Sviatoslav Shevchuk, Major Archbishop of Kiev-Halych, leader of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, exchanges the Peace with a fellow bishop. This liturgy was celebrated in Rome at the Church of St Sophia just after he was elected and confirmed in March 2011; the liturgy had to be celebrated outdoors, in front of the church, to accommodate the number of faithful in attendance.

7. The silent parts of the Anaphora are read by all of the concelebrants together, while the sung parts, including the Words of Consecration, are sung aloud by the main celebrant, and in a lower voice by the others. In the modern Roman Rite, the Words of Consecration are said (or, rarely, sung) in the same way, but the rest of it is parceled out among the concelebrants according to the rubrics given in the GIRM, paragraphs 219-236. Each one says his part alone.

8. Byzantine concelebrants all communicate at the same time and in the same manner, at the altar. This may be done in the Roman Rite, but it is also permitted for the main celebrant and one or more of the other concelebrants to distribute Communion to them from the paten as they remain at their seats, and likewise to bring them the Chalice at their seats. The GIRM does not mention any particular circumstance, (for example, a Mass at which a larger-than-usual number of concelebrants are present), in which it is considered more appropriate, or less so, for the concelebrants to partake of Holy Communion without coming to the altar. The priestly prayer before Communion, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God” or “May the receiving of Thy body”, is to be said only by the main celebrant.

9. If, after the distribution of Holy Communion, there is any left over, It is brought to the table of the Proskomide by the main celebrant, but consumed by another. The Prayer of Thanksgiving said at the end of the Divine Liturgy is said by one of the concelebrants, who exits the Royal Doors, descends to the nave, then turns and faces the altar for the prayer, before returning to his place in the sanctuary. After the main celebrant has given the final blessing, another set of prayers of thanksgiving are said by a reader, with a concelebrant singing the conclusions of the prayers out loud. In the modern Roman Rite, after the distribution of Holy Communion, “all is done in the usual manner by the principal celebrant, with the concelebrants remaining at their places”. On leaving the altar, only the main celebrant kisses it; the concelebrants only bow. (GIRM parag. 250-251)

10. Lastly we may note two proper characteristics of the Byzantine Rite which are of the greatest importance for understanding why concelebration remains the norm within it.

The first is that the sung Liturgy also remains the norm within it, and it has rather a lot more to be sung than does the Roman Rite. Concelebration in the Byzantine manner enables each priest to celebrate a fully sung Divine Liturgy with a frequency that has been at best rare in the Roman world for centuries. I dare say that no one would care to argue that the widespread reintroduction of concelebration in the West has accomplished much for the good of our musical patrimony, or been attended by a general upswing in the quality of music in churches of the Roman Rite.

The second is that the Byzantine Rite makes almost no use of what modern liturgists call “progression of solemnity”. There is no such thing as a common feria in the Byzantine Rite, and they do not celebrate ‘the Divine Liturgy of St Michael,’ or ‘of St Elizabeth’ etc., as a Latin priest celebrates ‘the Mass of St Michael’ or ‘the Votive Mass of the Trinity.’ There is the Divine Liturgy, most of which does not change at all from day to day; before the Trisagion (“Holy God, Holy Immortal one...”), the troparia and kontakia of the Saints of the day are sung, and there is at least one Saint (usually many more) on literally every single day of the Calendar. The readings may be those of the day, from the current week of the liturgical year, or those of the feast, according to various customs and traditions. Truly significant variations are confined to a handful of occasions within the year, or used only once a year on a particular feast. (For example, on Holy Saturday and Pentecost, the Trisagion is substituted by a different chant, “All ye that have been baptized in Christ, have put on Christ, alleluia!” The traditional Old Church Slavonic version is one of the loveliest pieces of the year; it starts in the video below at 0:52.)

In contrast, when concelebration was reintroduced into the Roman Rite, it was envisioned principally as a way of solemnizing important feast days and other special occasions. Sacrosanctum Concilium mentions it in connection with Holy Thursday, councils, synods, and conventual Masses, although not in such terms as to exclude the possibility of concelebration on other occasions. As the Church’s law stands now, it is of course licit for a group of 50 priests to concelebrate a Mass with no music at all on a green feria. Whether it is a wise, or necessary, or spiritually profitable thing for them to do so is another question altogether.