Tridentine Latin Mass
REACTIONS TO THE MOTU PROPRIO AND THE RETURN OF THE
TRIDENTINE LATIN MASS
08/07/07 16:53 Permalink
From Newbusters--LA Times Claims Latin Mass 'Leaving Some Polarized'
Here is the L.A. Times most negative take on the move to Latin: Traditionalists are pleased, but others see an erosion of Vatican II reforms.
From National Post: What's Latin for 'No one is happy?'
From the Epoch Times: Latin Mass a Looming Headache for Catholic Parishes
Here is a bishop who has fought back the tears about the return of Latin, and more creation of false conflict by the secular liberal media: Bishop mourns Latin decree, Jews ask for clarity
A claim that the motu proprio is welcomed by the Bishops of England and Wales: Bishops of England and Wales welcome Pope's call for unity
Some reaction from the Society of Pius X: Pope frees up Latin Mass for traditional Catholics
As if there is not enough: Criticism over return of Latin Mass
Finally from the Globe and Mail: Latin's Catholic Comeback
And here is an article on a community about to lose their Latin Mass: Latin service 'a time to stop, slow down'
Finally from Inside the Vatican: "Not a Rejection of the Council"
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LATIN AND THE MASS: THE MORE DEAD THE LANGUAGE THE
BETTER
30/06/07 06:36 Permalink
"The Latin language is venerable on account of its origin and its antiquity; it is the language in which the praises of God resounded from the lips of Christians during the first centuries. It is a sublime and solemn thought that the Holy sacrifice is now offered in the same language...with the very same words as it was offered in times long past, in the obscurity of the Catacombs." The Catechism Explained, The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, Spirago & Clarke (1927)
"There is also an element of mystery about the Latin tongue; it is a dead language not understood by the people. The use of an unknown tongue conveys to the mind ... that a mystery is being enacted. In the first centuries of Christianity a curtain used to be drawn during the time from the Sanctus to the communion to conceal the altar from the sight of the worshippers. This is now no longer done, but the use of an unknown tongue has something of the same effect, by inspiring awe..." The Catechism Explained, The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, Spirago & Clarke (1927)
The use of Latin also protects the Church against error and heresy.
"The use of a dead language is a safeguard against many evils; it is not subject to change but remains the same all the time. Languages in daily use undergo a continual process of change; words drop out, or their meaning is altered as years go on. If a living language were employed in divine worship heresies and errors would inevitably creep into the church , and sacred words would be employed in an irreverent or mocking manner by the unbeliever..." The Catechism Explained, Spirago & Clarke (1927)
One can observe these "errors" all around us today. From the Catholic who speaks of a "meal" in reference to the Body and Blood of the Son of God, to the widespread neglect of our Lord in the Tabernacle, errors have increased since the introduction of the vernacular to be certain, and so often the origin of these errors is language based. One can clearly see how Protestantism continues to grow each day by division and disunity through language-- with each man interpreting scripture according to his own divinely claimed revelations. Ironically, this began with Martin Luther's rejection of not only the Church, but the rejection of the traditional language of the Church and his innovative addition of "sola" to create "sola fide".
"Another evil consequent upon [a change to the vernacular instead of Latin] would be a lessening of the respect felt for the holy sacrifice, as was proved at the time of the reformation, when the prayers of the Mass were, to a great extent, translated into German and English." The Catechism Explained, Spirago & Clarke (1927)
The respect for the holy sacrifice has indeed suffered from the attempt to make the liturgy more relevant to our times by the use of the vernacular. The birth and death by crucifixion of the Son of God to save repentant sinners from the fires of hell is a mystery that cannot be conveyed, or appreciated in worship services that are based on a "cult of personality" or mere songs and remembrance meals. The holy sacrifice of Jesus on the cross transcends time therefore our worship must transcend our times and even our language to avoid banality. Any attempt to conform to our temporal fads, or trends, or even to our individual languages, demeans the mystery of the cross, and undermines the reverence due a Holy and Almighty God. Worship which lacks reverence and mystery heretically transforms God into a sappy friend in the sky who provides us a meal for our bodies instead of our souls. God is deserving of a language reserved only for Him where the truth cannot be altered or spun.
Finally, haven't we all observed the problems that the vernacular presents in large cities where numerous cultures reside? There are different masses for immigrants from all over the world. The return of Latin would negate the need to set aside masses for each culture.
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN
14/06/07 20:53 Permalink
"The church's windows are broken, its beige bricks are sooty, its paint is chipped. The 300-foot steeple, a hallmark of the St. Louis skyline, is pulling away from its foundation. One day it could tumble into traffic on Gravois Avenue.
St. Francis de Sales church, often called the Cathedral of South St. Louis, is an ideal home for a group of Roman Catholic priests devoted to restoration. But restoring this 19th-century neo-Gothic church to its former glory is only one reason St. Louis Archbishop Raymond Burke assigned the priests to oversee St. Francis de Sales.
The real mission of the group, called the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest, is the restoration of the traditional Latin Mass.
The 1,600-year-old Mass isn't used much today, but it's making a comeback.
That effort will get a boost Friday when Burke — one of the most devoted supporters of the old Latin rite among U.S. bishops — will ordain two deacons of the Institute at the Cathedral Basilica. Burke has ordained members several times in Italy, where the institute is based outside Florence. But Friday will mark the first time members of the 17-year-old institute will be ordained in the United States and the first time the traditional Latin liturgy will be used in an ordination here in more than 40 years.
Most of the world's 1 billion Catholics are familiar with the celebration of Mass in their own languages. The traditional Latin Mass, also referred to as the Tridentine Mass, Classical Latin Mass, Old Rite, Classical Roman Rite or Mass of Ages, was largely set aside by the church in the 1960s when the Second Vatican Council approved changes in the liturgy.
The Latin Mass is thick with pageantry, solemnity and symbolism and is often referred to as "smells and bells" for its generous use of incense and music.
A papal decree, which Vatican officials have said should be released soon, is likely to expand the use of the ancient Mass. The decree — called a motu proprio — is expected to allow any priest to celebrate the traditional Latin Mass without the permission of his bishop.
Vatican watchers say the decree could be released July 14, the date, in 1570, when Pope Pius V published the liturgical text that would be used to celebrate Mass for the next 400 years — until the reforms of Vatican II.
In today's church, priests are free to celebrate the post-Vatican II liturgy, or new order Mass, in Latin — though most don't. What a priest cannot do without the permission of his bishop is celebrate the traditional Latin Mass as it was structured, worded, sung and heard in 1962, the last time it was changed before Vatican II.
Because two generations of American Catholics are accustomed to hearing the Mass celebrated in English, it's unlikely most will want to switch to a liturgy that is longer, more formal and celebrated in a language they don't understand.
But some Catholics would welcome a choice.
Eric Kraenzle, 44, of Webster Groves and a member of St. Pius V parish in St. Louis, said he thought it was a good idea for the Vatican to expand the use of the traditional Latin Mass.
"It would be a nice option," he said. "I'm not sure it's for everyone because of the language barrier, but why not let people experience that tradition if they want to?"
In St. Louis, Catholics who love the traditional Latin Mass have a bishop who shares their feelings. Burke was the first bishop to bring the Institute of Christ the King to the United States when, as bishop of LaCrosse, Wis., he invited its priests into his diocese. He also established another group of religious men dedicated to the old Latin rite, called the Canons Regular of the New Jerusalem, while in Wisconsin. He has since moved that group to St. Louis.
Burke declined to be interviewed for this story.
The institute is a "society of apostolic life" within the church. Its priests are not quite part of a religious order, nor are they quite diocesan priests. They live in community as religious order priests do, but they take no vows.
A papal decision reinstituting the wider use of the church's ancient liturgy would be a celebratory moment for the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest.
Monsignor Michael Schmitz, the institute's U.S. superior, has said the motu proprio "will be like seeing your mother all dusty and in rags on the streets; you go up to her and rip off the old dusty clothing and below that you see the golden clothes that she has brought for the most beautiful ball she has ever attended."
Many of those Catholics who love the traditional Latin Mass are part of a younger generation, people who are seeking a connection with the ancient history of their faith, said the Rev. Karl Lenhardt, St. Francis de Sales rector. For instance, he said, the average institute priest (there are 50 around the world) is in his 30s, and the institute has 70 young men in various states of training.
The Rev. Eugene Morris, a theology professor at Kenrick-Glennon Seminary, said younger Catholics who have no memory of the old Latin Mass are attracted to the "traditional symbols and rituals that in some ways communicate more clearly the historicity and mystery of what we are celebrating."
Outside St. Francis de Sales on Sunday, Daniel Frasca, 28, of St. Charles said he attends Mass there "because it feels more like church here than at other Masses."
Natalie Kummer, 31, a mother of four from Florissant, said she liked to experience the same Mass as Catholics a millennium ago. "It's more reverent," she said, "more beautiful."
St. Agatha Church, also in south St. Louis, hosted the archdiocese's old Latin Mass before it was moved to St. Francis de Sales in 2005. According to Lenhardt, about 300 people came to one traditional Latin Mass each Sunday at St. Agatha. At St. Francis, the number is close to 1,000 for two Masses each Sunday, he said.
On Sunday, about 500 people gathered in St. Francis, for a 10 a.m. Mass that lasted more than two hours. Before Mass, and for about 45 minutes after it began, the line for confessions was 10 deep at three different elaborately carved wooden confessionals inside the church. Most of the women and girls wore black or white lace head coverings. The army of priests, deacons, subdeacons and altar boys in the sanctuary, which is separated from the nave by an altar rail, wore an array of ornate vestments. Six members of the Knights of Columbus, dressed in full regalia and bearing swords, escorted the clergy to the altar before the Mass began.
The pace of the traditional Latin Mass can seem slow and drawn out to those used to the newer liturgy. Long periods go by while the congregation sits still, watching the rituals in the sanctuary, praying and listening to the chanting of the choir. But it is exactly this meditative quality of the Mass that attracts some Catholics.
Mostly, though, it is tradition — as important in Catholicism as Scripture — that draws so many people to the old Latin rite. With the traditional Latin Mass, "we merge into a stream that has its origins in Christ himself, and that goes until the end of time," said Lenhardt.
Before high Mass on Sunday, Kummer stopped her son Joseph outside the church to wipe a smudge of dirt from his forehead. She seemed excited but contemplative as they walked through St. Francis de Sales' large wooden doors into a two-hour ritual that would be the same this Sunday as it was for some of the earliest Christians.
"They used to say Mass was the most beautiful thing this side of heaven," said Kummer. "That's what it's like here."
THE WORLD'S CONFUSION OVER THE RETURN OF THE LATIN
MASS
03/05/07 15:29 Permalink
This following article from Slate is entitled "Can the Latin Mass Make a Comeback?". It seems like asking if water or air can make a comeback. It is as if the return to the Tridentine Latin Mass is a mere trend, when in reality all of creation awaits the return of its mystery, reverence and grace.
From Slate: When word began to spread last year that Pope Benedict XVI might release a document that would allow some changes in the ways Catholic worship on Sunday mornings, the reaction in some quarters approached giddy enthusiasm. "It's coming … it's coming!" wrote one blogger of the imminent release of the papal decree. (As it turned out, its release was not so imminent. Catholics who were waiting are still waiting, though reports now suggest the announcement could come in a few weeks.)
Most Vatican documents, it's probably safe to say, are not designed to provoke such fits of anticipatory glee. So, how to explain the excitement?
The long-rumored document—said to take the form of a motu proprio, a personal initiative of the pope—would allow for broader use of the Tridentine, or, as it's commonly known, Latin Mass, by permitting any priest to celebrate it without first receiving permission from his bishop. The rite was the Catholic standard for nearly 400 years, from its codification in 1570 until the reforms of the 1960s that followed in the wake of the Second Vatican Council ushered in Masses in the local vernacular. The Latin Mass may no longer hold a place at the center of Catholic life, but some Catholics never stopped longing for its return.
Any hopes tradition-minded Catholics might have for a full comeback by the Latin Mass have to be tempered, though—and not just because so many of the reports of Vatican announcements on the subject have proved to be premature. Even if the pope announces his support for more readily available Tridentine Masses, it remains to be seen whether many Catholics would attend the old-school service. The Latin Mass has become so marginalized in recent decades that a service that was once the quintessence of Catholicism must now seem exotic and foreign to many Catholics.
I attended Catholic schools in the '70s, among one of the first waves of Catholics who had never taken part in a Mass in Latin. At the time, our parish, like so many others, seemed gripped by a spirit of progressive reform. We had a youth group, we had relaxed and folksy guitar Masses, we had a hip young priest with long hair and sideburns. All of it—well, maybe not the sideburns—seemed to send the message that the Ancient and Eternal church was now New and Improved. Only occasionally would we hear reports of how things were back in the day. And nothing seemed more mysterious and otherworldly to us than the Latin Mass.
The shift away from services in Latin was just the most visible of the many changes that swept the church in the 1960s. As my liturgically clueless classmates and I were told, before the Second Vatican Council, Masses were celebrated in Latin by a priest who faced the altar, his back to the congregation. After Vatican II, Masses were in the vernacular, and priests faced their flocks. Many of the post-council reforms were meant to encourage the congregation to feel more involved with the ceremony.
After the reforms took hold, the Latin Mass virtually disappeared until 1984, when Pope John Paul II allowed some churches to again offer the Tridentine Mass, as long as the local bishop approved. By the time my generation came of age, the Latin Mass seemed a relic of the old pre-Vatican II church, even if it could still be found in a handful of parishes in many cities. (Catholics in the archdiocese of Washington, D.C., for example, can attend a Tridentine Mass in one of three local parishes each Sunday.) For those of us who grew up with Masses in English, hand-holding congregations, and such jaunty church music as "Lord of the Dance," the Latin Mass was a ritual from another time and place.
But it is precisely that sense of timeless ritual, coupled with the mystery and awe that it can evoke, that helps to account for traditionalists' affection for the old Mass.
Writing in Commonweal in 2000, Bill Shuter called the Tridentine Mass "a solemn rite of extraordinary power" that "may be re-enacted daily, but is no everyday action." Traditionalists prefer the power of Latin to what they see as the banality of the liturgy in English. And many Catholics associate the Latin Mass with the church's glorious heritage of ancient music and solemnity in worship—a heritage some say has been lost in the liturgical changes that have been enacted over the last few decades.
One of the most visible critics of the liturgical changes of the 1960s and afterward was Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, the man who would become Pope Benedict XVI. In his 2000 book, Raztinger wrote of reformed liturgies: "Less and less is God in the picture. … [T]he turning of the priest toward the people has turned the community into a self-enclosed circle. In its outward form, it no longer opens out on what lies ahead and above, but is closed in on itself." Such criticisms led most observers to assume that, as pontiff, he would make encouraging liturgical traditionalism a priority.
But for some progressive Catholics, even a limited comeback for the Latin Mass would spell a disturbing retreat to the inflexible hierarchies and what they see as the anachronistic services of the old pre-Vatican II church.
Though some of the thorniest issues the church has to contend with—the role of women in the church and priestly sexuality, to name just a couple—are not directly related to the liturgy, debates about the ways Catholics worship on Sunday mornings often produce the most heat and the greatest divisions. And coming to terms with changes in the Mass that followed the Second Vatican Council has, for some Catholics, taken decades.
In his book A People Adrift: The Crisis of the Roman Catholic Church in America, Peter Steinfels, who writes the weekly Beliefs column in the New York Times, called the post-council changes in liturgy "a kind of Copernican revolution in Catholic worship. The basic truths—the sun, the stars, Earth and other planets of the faith, were still there, by they were strikingly reconfigured."
Catholics who have attended a Tridentine high Mass, or "sung" Mass, complete with choirs, plainchant, and the attendant "smells and bells" ritual, know it can be a transcendent occasion. But, as Steinfels and others have pointed out, it's all too easy to romanticize the old Latin Mass. Many Catholic churches celebrated the so-called low Mass, with the priest quietly speaking his part at the altar in Latin and the congregation standing by silently—and too often, lifelessly. According to the Catholic News Service, even then-Cardinal Ratzinger acknowledged in public statements that some aspects of the old low Mass left much to be desired.
Certainly, readier access to the Latin Mass would thrill the core of liturgical old-schoolers who have longed for its return. But how many mainstream American Catholics would be interested in attending a Latin Mass? Some of the largest and most passionate Catholic congregations I've seen have been in churches whose services have veered far from the pre-council standard and toward something more resembling an evangelical megachurch service: video screens, pop-influenced worship bands, a breezy informality in the pews.
But ideological debates aside, perhaps the most practical—and unanswered—question is this: For four decades, Latin was largely neglected in the church (and in Catholic schools). How many Catholic priests—many of them, like me, having come of age after the reforms of the 1960s—could muster enough Latin to offer a convincing Tridentine service?
THE LATIN COUNTERREVOLUTION
28/04/07 21:04 Permalink
Here is secular analysis of the Pope and his mission to restore Latin to its proper place in the Church, from Expatica:
"Pope Benedict XVI may have raised a few eyebrows with his red Prada shoes and Father Christmas-like "camauro" hat but the German-born pontiff is no revolutionary on Catholic Church matters.
No one was surprised then when the German-born Pope Benedict XVI issued strict rules on how to celebrate Mass and reaffirmed the importance of the celibacy rule for priests this month.
However, there was one minor aspect of this apostolic exhortation, Sacramentum Caritatis (Sacrament of Charity), that will likely make waves: His decision to encourage the use of Latin in Church.
"I ask that future priests, from their time in the seminary, receive the preparation needed to understand and to celebrate Mass in Latin, and also to use Latin texts and execute Gregorian chant," the pope wrote in his message to clergymen and ordinary Catholics.
The traditional Tridentine Mass in Latin was replaced with updated liturgies in local languages by the Second Vatican Council of 1965. That decision contributed to a schism within the Church led by Marcel Lefebvre, an ultra-conservative French archbishop who was later excommunicated by the late Pope John Paul II.
Since then, congregations wishing to celebrate Mass in Latin are forced to seek permission from Rome or from their local bishops.
The language of Cicero
In his apostolic exhortation, published last month, Benedict made it clear that he was endorsing a proposal made by a 2005 Synod of Bishops and that it was in line with directives issued by the Second Vatican Council.
He also noted that he was thinking primarily of international gatherings, where the language of Cicero would be used as a sort of lingua franca (universal language) and help "express more clearly the unity and universality of the Church".
"The papal document is a step towards more dignity during the divine service and Latin can play a role in this," a Vatican Radio journalist, who asked not to be named, told dpa.
"I really see the pope's words as a guideline only, not as a directive," he added.
So exalted
More than a few Catholics and churchgoers, especially in southern Europe, admit that the old rite in good old Latin had been so "much more solemn, much more exalted."
After all, they argue, "Hic est enim calix sanguinis mei" sounds so much nicer than "This is the chalice of my blood" while "pater noster, qui es in caelis" has a much better ring to it than "our father, who art in heaven."
According to a recent report in the Sunday Times, Benedict, who is fluent in Latin and openly criticised the decision to drop Latin when he was still a cardinal, plans to bring back the old Tridentine Mass despite opposition from some senior cardinals.
Vatican sources quoted by the British paper said the pope was considering publication of a papal "motu proprio" (of his own initiative) on the matter. This would do away with the need for approval from Church bodies.
Latin lovers
Meanwhile, the Vatican's "Latin lovers" have hailed the document, which experts see as a first step towards a possible "counterrevolution."
A return to Latin would please traditionalists, such as adherents to the Lefebvre movement, as well as Latin experts inside the Vatican, who have been bemoaning the decline of the classical language for years.
"Who can still speak Latin nowadays?" complained Father Reginald Foster, an American priest known as the "Pope's Latinist," in an interview published a few years ago.
"The priests don't know it any more, and not even the bishops do - it's terrible. Some can't even read the inscriptions on gravestones. It's a scandal," he said.
A COUNTER CULTURAL PRIEST
21/03/07 15:21 Permalink
It is precisely because of counter cultural priests like Fr. Johnson that the Tridentine Rite was kept alive and so many are now anxiously awaiting the motu proprio.
Here is Fr. Johnson's obituary from the L.A. Times:
Father Daniel Johnson, a champion of pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic traditions and the centuries-old Tridentine Mass, has died. He was 77.
Johnson died Sunday at a Duarte hospital after a long illness.
"He was a pioneer in reforming liturgical reform," said Michael J. Sundstedt, a longtime parishioner at St. Mary's by the Sea in Huntington Beach, where Johnson served as pastor for 25 years before retiring in 2004.
When Johnson arrived at the tiny wooden church in 1978, it was in danger of closing because membership had dwindled to about 400 people, church administrators recalled.
Johnson began walking door to door in the neighborhood, sometimes in the rain, inviting people to church. He also visited the Huntington Beach Pier every evening, striking up conversations.
"He touched a great many lives in profound ways," said Suzanne Donnelly, the parish secretary.
Although regarded as stodgy and closed-minded in some quarters, he was a hero to Southern California Catholics who disliked the "peace hugs" and "hootenanny music" of modern services, parishioners said.
Some drove from neighboring Los Angeles County or various Orange County cities to attend his church.
Emphasizing tradition and decorum, Johnson discouraged parishioners from snapping photos at baptisms and weddings — and he resisted Vatican II reforms that allowed people to receive Communion in their hands, Sundstedt said.
In 1992, Johnson revived the all-but-banished Tridentine Mass at his parish. Believed to have originated in the 6th century, the highly choreographed Latin rite was standardized by the Council of Trent in the late 1500s. It remained the only Mass celebrated by Roman Catholics until 1962.
After Vatican II, some priests defied church orders to discontinue the Tridentine rite. But in 1984, Pope John Paul II said Latin services could again be offered — with permission from local bishops.
Johnson's parish wasn't the first in Orange County to bring back the old Mass. In Garden Grove, St. Columban's resumed Tridentine Masses in 1984. The services then migrated to the Serra Chapel at Mission San Juan Capistrano, where they are still offered.
But under Johnson's leadership, St. Mary's by the Sea quickly became a rallying point for conservative Catholics, growing to about 1,400 families.
Born in Michigan to devout Catholic parents, Johnson grew up in Torrance, where he served as an altar boy.
After attending St. John's Seminary in Camarillo, he was ordained in 1954. He served in the Diocese of Los Angeles until 1976, when the Diocese of Orange was created.
During the last decade, Johnson was afflicted with numerous health problems, including a cancer on his ear that required multiple surgeries and radiation treatments. He also developed Bell's palsy, which paralyzed the right side of his face and spurred him to convert his favorite golf putter into a cane.
After retiring at age 75, he returned to Torrance to live with his brother Gerald and play golf (over the years, he had racked up about three dozen holes-in-one). But after a bad fall, he spent most of his final years in a nursing home or hospital.
The Diocese of Orange stopped offering Tridentine Masses at St. Mary's by the Sea after Johnson left. But the Latin service will be briefly resurrected there for his funeral Mass, church officials said. The date hasn't been set.