In defense of the Novus Ordo
This past weekend, the Novus Ordo Missae ( “New Ordinary of the Mass”), the Mass celebrated in almost every Catholic parish in the world, turned 40 years old. Instituted in the wake of Vatican II, this was the most visible change for most Catholics as a result of that Council.
The vast majority of Catholics have simply accepted the Novus Ordo and don’t think much about it. However, for some Catholics the Novus Ordo represents all that is wrong with the Church of the past 40 years. Other Catholics (and I would include myself in this camp) don’t have a problem with the Novus Ordo itself but do have criticisms in how it has been implemented in many dioceses and parishes.
The changes that have been most criticized are the use of the vernacular (instead of Latin), the priest turning around to face the people instead of facing the same direction as they do, and the terrible, terrible music heard in many parishes today. But, as Br. Charles points out, none of these things are actually required in celebrating the Novus Ordo:
- Benedict XVI is oft-quoted (from The Spirit of the Liturgy) on the theological and ecclesiological problems of the Mass offered versus populum. Many agree with him. However, though this option for celebration may seem to the casual observer to be one of the distinctive marks of the Mass of Paul VI, and is treated by many priests as a sacred and unalterable religious duty, it is neither essential nor normative. In fact, in the newer form of Mass, the priest is required to turn and face the people fewer times than in the older form. Thus, it is not fair to criticize the Novus Ordo based on troubles attendant on the offering of Mass “facing the people.”
- Analogously, though it may also seem that Mass offered in local languages is an instrinsic mark of the newer form of Mass, this is also an option rather than a norm. Sacrosanctum concilium 36 clearly affirms that the Latin remains the ordinary language of the Roman rite. Thus, it is also unfair to base criticisms on the use of the vernacular.
- Much criticism, and some of it justified, has been made against contemporary Catholic music that has grown up alongside the newer form of Mass. For most of us, the ordinary procedure for arriving at music for Mass is to contoct the ‘four song sandwich’ that will match the readings or suit our theme. This custom is taken for granted so much of the time that we forget that it is a matter of exception and substitution. The ordinary way of music-ing the Roman liturgy is to sing the actual texts of the Mass as they are found in the Missal and the Gradual, rather than substituting them for songs and metrical hymns. For this purpose, Gregorian chants allegedly retain their “pride of place,” at least according to Sacrosanctum concilium 116. Therefore, it is not exactly fair to criticize the modern Roman liturgy based on some of the bad music with which it has become associated, for this association is neither essential nor normative.
Thus, much of the criticism directed at the Novus Ordo should instead be directed at how it has been implemented. It would take no change in the law of the Church to change the celebration of the Mass to a more traditional, yet still faithful to the desires of Vatican II, way.
Thanks for the nod! A peaceful and mysterious Advent to all us Sammonses!
So would it be fair to say the bishops should be blamed since they are the shepherds of the dioceses? They are the ones that set the norms by example aren’t they?
The changes in the Mass, of which Novus Ordo is the culmination, had roots in the Pope Pius XII’s Commission for Liturgical Reform in 1948. It would be more accurate to say that the desire to change the Mass caused Vatican II than it would be to say, as you do, that Vatican II caused the change in Mass.
EWTN (http://www.ewtn.com/ celebrates the Novus Ordum mass in a way that is suggested at the end of the article. Most of the Mass is sung in Latin, however it is also done versus populum.
Tito,
There is no question that the bishops bear a great deal of responsibility for any problems in the Church (a responsibility I thank God I’ll never be burdened with). However, I don’t think it is fair to say that they are the only ones at fault. After all, the bishops are members and products of the whole Church. They were raised in Catholic (lay) families, trained in seminaries they had no control over, and selected by the Vatican. They didn’t just come out of a vacuum to implement these changes.
Furthermore, there was almost no real resistance to these implementations – from the pews, from priests, from fellow bishops, or from the Vatican. This is what everyone seemed to want – or at least to be content enough with not to complain. So to say it’s just the bishops’ fault I think is too simplistic of an answer. Any problems in the Church today are everyone’s fault.
Michael,
It is true that there was a growing liturgical reform movement in the Church before Vatican II. But I think it is safe to say that such a movement would never have moved so quickly and so radically had not Vatican II occurred.
Furthermore, Vatican II was not called to “change the Mass”. The discussion on the liturgy was only a small part of the Council itself; if you look at the history of Vatican II, the document on the liturgy is in many ways the most “conservative” and the one that encountered the least changes by the Council Fathers from the pre-conciliar drafts. It was only after the Council that the efforts to make more whole-scale changes began to pick up steam.
Well the Mass which EWTN celebrates is closer to the Mass of Paul VI, but since the Novus Ordo of 1970 the Church has bled members and has not gained precious few members. To say it is a failure would be an understatement. As HH Pope Benedict XVI said “it is banal and made up on the spot”. Because something is valid and licit does not mean it should be favored. In fact it past the time of leaving it behind. We need the TLM not more of this, lex credendi, lex orandi.
I am of mixed emotions. Before I was Catholic, I attended a Lutheran chapel at my college…when I began to go to Mass, I couldn’t tell the difference…except that at the Lutheran chapel we knelt for communion.
Our Liturgy, which literally means “the work of the people”, is a public display of our faith. Thus, our ‘work’ should reflect our Faith. Our faith is much different in depth, breadth, and beauty than Protestant faith. Shouldn’t our Liturgy support our Faith?
Upon reading Sacrosanctum concillium, it is apparent that what the Council requested is not what we received…and yet, His Holiness Paul VI, who was by his own confession not a liturgical expert, approved the Novus Ordo Missae, and implemented it 40 years ago. Thus, by virtue of its promotion as the norm of Mass by the Supreme Pontiff, I support it.
It is interesting and telling to note that when preparing to celebrate Mass in what used to be the Octave of Pentacost, His Holiness, when told that he could not wear red vestments because the Octave had been eliminated, broke down in tears.
Again, on the other hand, we don’t really know what we have until it is gone. After 40 years in the desert, I think we are beginning to wake up and remember what it means to be Catholic.
I have a great attraction for the traditional mass for a number of reasons. However, there is one respect in which I feel the Novus Ordo is clearly superior and that is the lectionary with its three-year cycle of readings and greater inclusion of readings from the Old Testament.
mrteachersir: In re the meaning of “liturgy,” I’ve heard Fr. Baldovin, a liturgist who defends the Novus Ordo, remark that the derivation of “liturgy” is properly understood as a work “for the people” rather than “of the people.” I don’t know which understanding is more accurate but I would think the “for the people” derivation would be more congenial to a traditionalist.
“Versus populum”? How about “coram populo” for a more exact phrase?
Vatican II was instigated by and contolled by the New Theologians aka neo-modernists. We agree that the changes to the Mass started before and ended after Vatican II. Vatican II was but an instrument in the hands of the neo-modernists to “modernize” the Catholic Church. I agree with your “what if” analysis that says that if there had been no Vatican II then liturgical changes would have been slowed. But without this further explanation that you have provided in your follow-up comment, the face value interpretation in your original article of Novus Ordo being a “result” of Vatican II is historically misleading.
Novus Ordo is the fruit of Modernism, with Vatican II being but the means.
Michael,
I would disagree with your recounting of history. Vatican II was called solely by John XXIII, and not by some group of “neo-modernists”. Furthermore, the planning all the way up to the Council itself was under the direction of Curia officials considered traditional, and could not be said by anyone to be “modernist”. In fact, many thought before the Council started that it would just restate what had already been taught before in the same language as it had been the previous 400 years.
It was during the Council itself that the bishops decided to take the Council in a different direction (and for the record, I think that new direction was on the whole a good and proper one). But after the Council, many things were then implemented in the Council’s “spirit” that went far afield of the Council itself.
We can see this post-Council shift in Joseph Ratzinger. During the Council he was on the side of the so-called “progressives” (which you call the “New Theologians aka neo-modernists”). Yet after the Council he did not like the direction many bishops were taking the reforms and instead was committed to a more authentic implementation of the Council.
Personally, I’m in Pope Benedict’s camp: the Council itself was a gift to the Church, but much of its implementation was hijacked.
I’d encourage everybody to follow the link to Fr. Charles’ site. The comments there had a good discussion of the plusses and minuses of the Novus Ordo Missae without the polemic.
As a defense, this is not terribly satisfactory. Your argument seems to be simply that some of the worst liturgical abuses of the post-Conciliar era aren’t actually “official” parts of the Novus Ordo. I accept that, but it doesn’t get you where you want to be.
Specifically, given that the actual result of implementing the Novus Ordo has been a string of exactly the kind of abuses/problems you list, you have to show what there is about the Novus Ordo Missae that actually represents some sort of step forward. If you’re going to defend it, you have to show at least why it was necessary, what we could/should have gotten in exchange for this fairly dramatic break with tradition. I don’t think you’ve done that. You’re essentially saying “It’s not that bad, and if performed properly it could be perfectly reverent”. Leaving aside for the moment that this “proper performance” almost never has nor actually does occur, how does that represent any sort of improvement or “reform”? At least on this showing, your best case for the NO is that if people would only stop screwing it up it might be almost as good as what we had before we meddled with everything. That’s not, as I said, a very satisfactory defense. It’s simply not good enough to point out that it’s a valid mass and it could, someday, somewhere, be said in a way that isn’t so appallingly inappropriate and anti-Catholic.
I’m not presumptively saying such a defense can’t be mounted – I’d like to see you do it, in fact. But what you’ve written here doesn’t do anything to change my attitude of melancholy and obedient antipathy.
Also, I challenge your statement, in your response to Tito, that there was no real resistance to these changes from the pews. That’s simply not true – look at the history of the period. The changes were rammed down the throats of most of the laity, in some cases over strenuous objection. I’m not competent to say how widespread the resistance was, but there’s no question that it existed.
There is no defense of the Novos Ordo PERIOD
Dean,
You are correct that my post was not really a defense of the Novus Ordo as much as a defense against some of the criticisms of the Novus Ordo.
But I do think a defense is possible and I’ll just note a few improvements here (I’ll try to find time to write up a fuller defense later).
- The expanded readings, especially from the Old Testament, are a vast improvement, as they allow us to see the whole of Salvation History and interpret the Scriptures as the Fathers did: allegorically with Christ as their center.
- I personally think the vernacular should be the standard for the language of the Mass. This is the deeper tradition of the Church and it also allows for a more full participation by the faithful.
- Having the responses moved from the servers to the people is a good thing and also allows for a deeper participation by the faithful.
- The reform of the liturgical calendar, which is related to the Novus Ordo, was also an improvement. Although I love celebrating Saint’s Days, it had gotten to the point where their commemorations overwhelmed the celebration of the central mysteries of our faith.
Those are just a few things off the top of my head.
“At the news of the death of Pius XII, the old Dom Lambert Beauduin, a friend of Cardinal Roncalli (the future John XXIII), confided to Father Louis Bouyer: ‘If they elect Roncalli, everything would be saved; he would be capable of calling a council and of consecrating ecumenism.’”
http://www.tanbooks.com/doct/destroy_church.htm
Not bad for off the top of your head. I wouldn’t necessarily agree with all of it; I think doing away with the commemorations was a mistake (the Easterners have no problem celebrating several things at once, after all) and I don’t even want to touch the vernacular discussion, but that’s neither here nor there at this point.
My hat off to you sir, and I look forward to reading your more detailed defense (shameless modernist that you are).
I agree with you as to the expanded readings.
I would return to Latin, as least for the fixed parts of the mass. The “EWTN” mass celebrated at the Blessed Sacrament shrine in Alabama does a very nice job of this. I’ve wondered why it hasn’t caught on.
I agree with you about the responses. For my grandmother, the mass was always an opportunity to pray the rosary, having to participate in it was a distraction for her.
As for the calendar, some change was justified. But on balance, I think the baby went out with the bath water.
Hi Eric. In response to one of the comments, you say:
“It was during the Council itself that the bishops decided to take the Council in a different direction (and for the record, I think that new direction was on the whole a good and proper one).”
This is, I think, where many so-called traditionalists would take issue. I think everyone agrees that the early schemas, which were entirely abandoned later, were orthodox and would have resulted in an orthodox council. But I would like to make two points about this “new direction” which you mention. You say that you think the new direction was on the whole a good and proper one. Without being able to tell exactly where and at which points you think the “direction” was good and proper, and where and at which points it might not be good and proper, I would just point out that there are statements in some of the documents, specifically on religious liberty and the status of other churches and religions that, if taken on their face as they are written, clearly contradict previous Church teaching on the matter. I’m sure you know about these issues so I won’t burden you with the details.
That’s one point. The other is about this “new direction” business. What seems to have escaped some commentators is that the very idea of such a vague but possibly volatile and reckless course of action as a “new direction” being taken in a general Council is entirely modernist. In other words, apart from some particular issues explicitly stated in the documents themselves, the “spirit” of Vatican II that we heard so much about after the council was actually very clearly THE motivating factor FOR the council after the initial schemas had been dropped. It wasn’t that modernism somehow found a foothold during the council, or after the council in the “implementation” of the council in the form of some mythical “spirit”. It was that modernism was deeply entrenched in the Church well before the council, and almost from the beginning (and I would argue it is what motivated John XXIII in the first place as well) was THE motivating force in all of the council proceedings. Sure, some members of the council saw it for what it was and fought it, but they lost. It’s not that modernism was influential, it is that it won and carried the day at the council. We can only thank God that the council was merely “pastoral” (modernism again) and not dogmatic. Indeed, this fact is what makes it possible to simply ride out the modernism in the Church and the “implementations” of the Council, and wait for the Church to truly recover (not reform in the way the neo-cons mean it). The council can simply be ignored, from the doctrinal standpoint, and waited out from a practical standpoint. In the meantime, what we need to be doing is rescuing our fellow Catholics from modernism, from their subjectivist intellectual presuppositions to the “implementation” of those presuppositions in their lives, especially their faith lives (which should be their whole lives). What we should be diligently avoiding is any compromise with modernism.
Eric, you say:
“- I personally think the vernacular should be the standard for the language of the Mass. This is the deeper tradition of the Church and it also allows for a more full participation by the faithful.
- Having the responses moved from the servers to the people is a good thing and also allows for a deeper participation by the faithful.”
How is the vernacular the “deeper tradition” of the Church? Because it is older? How is that deeper? Because Jesus used the vernacular? What if he had spoken Greek, and most of the disciples understood Greek? Would that have an effect on its depth? I’m afraid you need to qualify and efend your notion of “deeper” here.
Also, how does the vernacular allow for a more “full participation”? Is this like depth? Are “more full” and “deeper” synonymous in modernist-speak? Do they somehow “penetrate” the “depths” of my soul more “deeply”? Since at the TLM I read the prayers in English, and am trying to learn Latin, am I being “deep” there too?
Finally, how does having the responses said by the faithful make my participation “deeper”? Did my role as a lay faithful somehow change to something higher than it was before, and the priest’s role change to something lesser? Is an egalitarian Mass “deeper” than one that clearly shows the proper role of the relevant participants?
The expanded readings, especially from the Old Testament, are a vast improvement
I am not so sure. This increased exposure to Scripture came at the cost the discarding the traditional annual sequence of readings, so closely tied to feasts and seasons. An exquisitely-crafted liturgical calendar was tossed aside, disconnecting the faithful from their ecclesial past and from the natural rhythms of God’s creation.
Mass isn’t Bible study. Nor is the Mass a didactic moment. These are a protestant understanding of liturgy as an evangelical event, whereas Catholics understand the Eucharist as supremely sacramental.
vernacular should be the standard
Then you’d be opposing the Council, which called for Latin to be known and routinely used by the faithful. Recourse to the vernacular pitches the Church into endless translation controversies. Latin OTOH is traditional (allowing us to pray in — and thus to be formed by — the same words that were old in the mouths of saints a thousand years ago). Latin is holy (meaning that it has no everyday use and thus is reserved for divine service). Latin is timeless (its meaning remains stable and its use in liturgy ushers us into the timelessness of God). Latin is catholic (a source and sign of unity in the Church). Latin ensures authenticity (by making liturgical ad libs and free-lance experimentation all but impossible).
a more full participation by the faithful.
Participation by the faithful is chiefly a matter of interior disposition, not externals. This point has been made repeatedly by many, including Ratzinger/Pope Benedict.
Read this article. This is also a result of your Novus Ordo Mass. http://stlouiscatholic.blogspot.com/2009/12/priest-shortage-or-necessary-outcome-of.html
I must weigh in on the ‘participation’ of the laity at Mass.
I remember a Mass, many years ago, in which people were called (during Mass, no less), ministry by ministry, to the front of the Church, to illustrate the ‘participation’ in the parish ministries, including those of the Mass.
The poor 6 or so people left in the pews, who were thanked for their prayers, kinda looked like they got the booby prize.
In truth, we participate in the Mass when we come well disposed, and as attentive as we can manage to be. We listen, we reflect, and we pray. I am not sure language necessarily has a lot to do with it.
I think we could be better able to participate in a Mass that is consistent. If the Masses are the same, even if it be in Latin, people know what to expect, and can participate more fully because they do not have to account for surprises.
We lived several months in a country in which English was not widely spoken. The Mass was entirely in the local language, which I did not know. I managed to participate simply by knowing how the Mass progressed. It isn’t rocket science to pick out the Sanctus after a week or two.
I don’t buy the argument that “the people” did not know what was happening when Mass was in Latin.
Those who did not know were probably not paying attention. I know people like that in our local vernacular Masses!
I have no desire to rehash all the liturgical debates of the past forty years, but I do want to make a quick comment about the whole idea of “participation.”
No one denies that deep participation is possible in the Extraordinary Form. One can follow along with the prayers in English and can even learn Latin. However, that was not the common practice of many of the faithful, at least by the time of Vatican II. Instead it was people engaging in separate devotions such as the Rosary while the priest said Mass. I’m sorry, but this is not participation, and it fundamentally misconstrues what it means to be a participant in the celebration of the Mass. Having the Mass in Latin as well as having the server say most of the responses help foster those illegitimate practices, and the Council Fathers wisely wanted to put a stop to it. Whether or not the reforms the Church instituted caused even greater problems is a valid debate, but at least the purpose was a legitimate one and recognized a true deficiency in how the Mass was celebrated pre-Vatican II.
I refuse to take an either/or attitude whereas I must condemn the NO wholesale and refuse to recognize any weaknesses in the EF, or I must act like the NO is perfect and the EF is an antiquated dinosaur which must be put to rest. The truth is that I do not think one Mass is inherently superior or inferior to the other. I think both have their strengths and weaknesses. Neither are infallibly perfect, but I can understand how some people might find one more conducive to encountering Christ than the other. That is why I think it is great that Pope Benedict liberalized the offering of the EF in the Church, thus making both forms available to more people.
This past weekend, the Novus Ordo Missae (“New Ordinary of the Mass”), the Mass celebrated in almost every Catholic parish in the world, turned 40 years old.
And we wonder why so many people are so totally confused about the Faith — both “progressives” and so-called “traditionalists.”
There is ONLY ONE MASS.
ONE.
And that Mass is 2000 years old. The Mass we celebrate today, and yesterday, and tomorrow, is not 40 years old. It is 2000 years old.
The particular rite — the Ordinary Form (we really should at least make an attempt to use the terminology that the Church uses) — may be of more recent vintage, but the Mass itself is One, and it is as old as the Church herself.
One God, One Faith, One Church, One Sacrifice, One Mass.
“I have no desire to rehash all the liturgical debates of the past forty years”
Then what is the point of your post here?
“In fact, in the newer form of Mass, the priest is required to turn and face the people fewer times than in the older form. Thus, it is not fair to criticize the Novus Ordo based on troubles attendant on the offering of Mass ‘facing the people.’”
Eric, common sense tells me that you’re missing the point. The issue is not how often the priest faces the people but why he faces them. All of the instances listed in the link you provided have a definite purpose – engaging the people in the priest’s next action, be it to welcome them into the holy sacrifice of the Mass, to enjoin them to pray that God will accept the sacrifice presented to him, to present to them the body and blood of Christ, or to proclaim the sacrifice ended and bless them so that, having entered into communion with him, they can follow Christ’s command to “go and make disciples of all nations”. I’m not a liturgical scholar so I don’t have any idea whether or not reducing these instances from eight to six was a good idea. However, none of them involve the orientation of the priest when he is offering the sacrifice to God, and since they are all requirements they all imply that he’s not facing the people.
I’ve heard the geometric explanations for both orientations: when the priest faces ad oriens, he is offering the sacrifice to God in linear unity with the rest of the Church, with him in front in persona Christi; when he faces versus populum, the offering can’t be linear (presumably since he’d be offering it to the people themselves and not to God) and so it is offered upwards to God. The whole idea of the priest’s orientation is meant to help the laity more reverently participate in the sacrifice, and I can’t see why the versus populum offering wouldn’t be in danger of being perceived as given forwards to the people or downwards to the earthworms or deflected off to Mecca or any other direction. Everybody knows that Heaven is not ‘up’ – we face the East because we look that way for the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, i.e. ‘like the rising sun, for the rising Son.’ The only argument I’ve ever heard in favor of the versus populum orientation is that it allows the people to see what the priest is doing. Apparently “hocus pocus” came about because superstitious types misheard the priest saying those magical words that turn bread and wine into flesh and blood: “Hoc est enim corpus meum.” Catholics already know what’s happening (the bread and wine sit on the altar until the priest consecrates them – until that happens, he moves himself around), and they don’t care about seeing it happen so much as participating in it reverently and in a way that sensibly gives glory to God. Indeed, when the priest performs the most important action of the Mass and raises the host, they can see it from any angle. At one of my local Novus Ordo-rite parishes, the physically capable priest doesn’t bother raising the Eucharist past nose level since everyone can already see it, and it looks more like he’s checking for lice than reaching and begging the Holy Spirit on behalf of the rest of humanity to descend upon the gifts in the climactic action of consecration. I can’t see why suddenly allowing this is an improvement.
Regarding the Catholic convert, G. K. Chesterton wrote in The Catholic Church and Conversion:
“He begins to realise that it is the secular world that spoils the sense of words; and he catches an exciting glimpse of the real case for the iron immortality of the Latin Mass. It is not a question between a dead language and a living language, in the sense of an everlasting language. It is a question between a dead language and a dying language; an inevitably degenerating language.”
Last year I attended Ave Maria University and was blessed to be able to experience the EF as well as the NO. Fr. Fessio also celebrated what he called “a sort of hybrid” Mass once every Wednesday. This may have been an inaccurate way of putting it because it was a NO rite with some if not all of the Latin options, and Fr. was positioned ad oriens. The Liturgy of the Word was done in the vernacular from the ambo (the expanded set of readings you mentioned, I think), and much of his homily was devoted to explaining how this particular Mass was celebrated. Doing the readings in the vernacular made sense for the sake of explaining the Word of God while the source is still fresh in the people’s minds. The Latin was kept for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, preserving its “iron immortality” and being fully accessible to the universal Church. Again, I’m no liturgical scholar, and I regret to say that I’m still unfamiliar with the history of Vatican II (and the Church at all), but this particular implementation seems to be what you are suggesting when you say that the NO needs to be implemented in a better way. It was far more effective than the usual implementation. Still, it took Fr. Fessio to make it happen, and he was fired from Ave Maria (”one more in a series of bad decisions,” he said) so I doubt that this implementation is still practiced there.
Beyond that I agree with Dean and I applaud you for rising to his challenge. I’m also looking forward to that detailed post.
God bless.
Am unsure as to what planet you are referring.
Please forgive my sarcasm, but you speak of a good Novus Ordo as if it exists somewhere as a Platonic form. Here on earth, a priest who decides to offer Mass ad orientem, chanted, in Latin, will be removed from his parish by his bishop before next Sunday.
And please, spare me the sermon about the need to educate the people before making the Mass reverent. I have had people fall in love with Traditional Latin Mass the first time they attend it. If there is a need for education, it is to teach Catholics what Pope Benedict XVI has said about the N.O.–it is a banal, on-the-spot product.
Last but not least, Eric: the people who are present at Mass and meditate on the mysteries of Christ via the Rosary are not participating in it? Huh? Too bad you weren’t around to explain this to Pope Pius XII; the poor foolish man encouraged the practice.
Unfortunately Mr. Sammons the bad options which you mention in your post where inherent in the construction of the Novus Ordo, which makes you wonder about what the intention was of its creators.
But why stop there?
One can read about just what the inventors of the New Mass wanted to do and you will see a foundation of sand; removal of prayers that explicitly mentioned sacrifice that Paul VI intervened to keep, disobeying direct orders from the Pope by Bugnini (chief architect of the New Mass), the outcry of the 1969 GIRM draft as “heretical,” Bugnini infamous statement about removing prayers that would be obstacle to protestant (like in my first example).
Imagine a man with the goal of removing prayers from the Mass which were obstacles to ecumenical dialog with protestants. What would that be? Number one on the list is the fact that the Mass is a Sacrifice and number two is Transubstantiation. Now Paul VI did intervene to save some of these prayers but Bugnini’s hand is far reaching, he and his commission successfully watered down and/or removed other prayers as much as they were allowed to do so the Mass would look less Catholic. Read a side by side comparison of each missal and you will see.
So there in lies one problem; prayers.
The next one is options, which is more easily dealt with by Rome and one which many can agree upon.
The very existence of options actually lends to the mindset that the Mass is more about pleasing people and experimentation – at least implicitly. A multiplicity of options encourages deeper experimentation, combine this with less explicit Catholic prayers and the result is more abuse.
Ritual is also watered down. Many significant ritual aspects that have deep symbolism are removed.
Rayn Grant writes:
All of the rites, symbolism and ritual present in the ancient liturgy have been suppressed. For example the numerous signs of the Crosses, all with theological meaning, were reduced to 3. All the rites governing the use of incense were suppressed. Ritual symbolism such as the altar boy moving the missal from the epistle side to the gospel side which symbolizes the old law passing from the Jews to the gentiles was removed, as well as the actions of the priest, outstretching his hands as Christ on the cross, or how he bows down at the confiteor to symbolize Christ weighed down by the world’s sin. These things were all completely excised from the Novus Ordo.
The only one I question from Mr. Grant is the “priest outstretching his hands” and of course the fact that incense is not removed but made optional.
Other examples can include the priest genuflecting immediately after the consecration but before the elevation and the placement of the priest’s fingers after the consecration.
Also the very concept of Holy obedience by the priest is hurt. Gone are the many rubrics that train him to perform the Real Sacrifice at the altar in submission to God just like Christ prayed “thy will be done.”
“But we can just use all the good options.” But you would still have all the watered down prayers and inferior ritual. One might as well offer a TLM if you want the NO to look more like it. At least then you can use prayers that were organically developed throughout the centuries instead of ones watered down or invented to please protestants.
Another warning sign is the fact that the Novus Ordo is a break from how a Mass is developed, namely organically and slowly throughout the centuries. Instead we have a Mass that was created by a commission which sought protestant input from six protestant observers – the head of this commission, as mentioned above, was Fr. Bugnini, already suspect for his explicit remarks about removing prayers that where obstacles for protestants. (L’Osservatore Romano, March 19, 1965.) and direct disobedience to the Pope among other things. Further the Nous Ordo was implemented from the top down on the whole church with such vicious speed.
- The expanded readings, especially from the Old Testament, are a vast improvement, as they allow us to see the whole of Salvation History and interpret the Scriptures as the Fathers did: allegorically with Christ as their center.
I disagree. A one year cycle focused around the most important Scripture better familiarizes everyone with salvation history than a three year one. For a better defense read this:
http://athanasiuscm.blogspot.com/2008/04/objections-answered-alleged-superiority.html
Excerpt:
The argument is essentially flawed because it relies upon numbers and the mere quantity of something as the sufficiency necessary for correct evaluation. Thus, to put it another way it seeks to implement the liturgical reform the way governments try to reform things, by throwing more of something indiscriminately. In this case it is scripture. Just as truly as government throws money at education, or defense in the desperate hope that things will get better, so the new lectionary throws as much of the bible at the layman as possible, indiscriminately, in the hope that he will leave the Church knowing something about the bible. However, the Traditional Lectionary’s effect is qualitative, focusing not so much on how much of the Bible the man in the pew hears, but rather what the man in the pew hears.
In the Traditional Liturgy the lectionary was tailored to match the breviary and lead the faithful to a certain idea through its collects, antiphons and other propers, the lectionary of the Novus Ordo often makes use of antiphons and propers that do not match any liturgical objective, that are given just for the sake of it.
Moving on:
- I personally think the vernacular should be the standard for the language of the Mass. This is the deeper tradition of the Church and it also allows for a more full participation by the faithful.
- Having the responses moved from the servers to the people is a good thing and also allows for a deeper participation by the faithful.
The Tradition of the Church is organic development. It is fact that all liturgies developed in such a way into their own liturgical language. Whether it be Latin or some archaic version of an area’s common tongue.
We cannot by any means fall into what Pope Pius XII condemned as antiquarianism; to return to older practices and disregard developed ones. There is a reason why liturgical languages develop.
Latin is good for unity and familiarity.
Latin helps prevent ad-libbing.
But most of all a liturgical language is most fitting for the Sacrifice of the Mass.
It is more proper for the Sacrifice of Calvary to be offered in a tongue that when everyday man hears it conveys a sense of mystery and other-worldliness. This brings man out of the everyday and into the Sacred. Hence his perception of what is going on is elevated to the Holy and as a result this can help against abuse and strengthen Catholic doctrine and concepts.
Further, participation can be fully achieved with no vernacular. Participationalism is the concept that man must be physically doing something in the liturgy – that he has to understand verbatim and he must say and do something.
Not so, this is false participation. Real participation is called “ACTUAL participation” not the falsely translated “active participation.”
This means that one can follow with mind and heart alone and achieve full actual participation.
But further still, the Latin is not as bad as everyone thinks. I went to a TLM for one month as was able to follow along. Not because I know Latin but because I familiarized myself with a few words, phrases and postures. I now know, without any translated help, where we are at in the Mass and I can follow with mind and heart – thus I achieve full actual participation even with a full Latin Mass.
And no, praying the Rosary at Mass is not an abuse and fulfills full participation as long as one is mediating correctly.
“Everybody knows that Heaven is not ‘up.’”
Oops. Dumb thing to say.
[...] a week ago I wrote a post titled “In Defense of the Novus Ordo“, which was really more an explanation that the things most criticized about the Novus Ordo [...]
Pingback by When Mass makes you angry « Divine Life – A Blog by Eric Sammons — December 14, 2009 @ 7:55 amWhy should we care what Vatican II wanted? If desires have changed, of the Pope especially, why must we always be chasing that rainbow? The modern hierarchy isnt bound by the disciplinary and prudential decrees of Vatican II anymore than it was bound by something like Quo Primum. Maybe, with the Novus Ordo, we found out that Vatican II’s “vision” wasnt very good in practice. No need to feel bound by it. Most traditionalists problem is with the TEXT itself, not just the way it is implemented.
Eric, since making my last comment I’ve started to read Dr. Denis Crouan’s The Liturgy after Vatican II, and I’ve realized that “I’m no liturgical scholar” isn’t the half of it. I have no idea what Br. Charles is talking about and I was way out of line to say anything about it, because I don’t know. Sorry to clog up the comment feed.
I make it a point never to attend the Novus Ordo Mass. Even when celebrated “correctly,” there are certain features that alienate and annoy: all the lay ministers (who wear NO liturgical garb); the hand shaking Kiss of Peace; altar girls; the Presentation of the Gifts; the Novus Ordo hymns (almost always bad); the altar table itself Julia Child anyone?) I belong to a traditionalist parish, and I love it. The parish is growing by leaps and bounds. People are so tired of the Protestant-style Novus Ordo. So tired! So tired! So tired! Our Lady of Fatima pray for the Church!
This past Sunday I made my way through South Philadelphia to attend a Traditional High Solemn Latin Mass (TLM) at St. Paul’s Catholic Church at 10th and Christian Streets. The last TLM I attended was sometime between my 11th and 12th birthday. I’d grown up with the TLM, so its passing then was not a pleasant time for me. Though I was captivated then by the Second Vatican Council, I didn’t want the Council to do anything to the Mass, so when the changes began—it took about a year for the liturgical reformatting to take effect—I’d brace myself whenever I went to church.
“What are they going to change this week?” I said to my parents.
Believe it or not, I’d stay awake at night and worry about what was happening to the Mass that I loved. Growing up, the nuns would tell us over and over how wonderful it was to be Catholic because no matter where you went in the world—from China to the South Pole—the Roman Mass would always be the same. They kept repeating that refrain as if it was the selling point of Catholicism, as if it was the one reason why the whole world should become Catholic.
With the passing of the TLM, I disappeared into the secular world for a few years, wearing my agnosticism on my sleeve like all good party members, carrying a book of Sartre in my knapsack. Cynical, know-it-all youth– that was me, us, everybody; even the way “we” flipped our long hair when we talked told the world that we knew everything and had it all figured out. But over time, especially on Sunday mornings, whether in Cambridge, Baltimore, or Colorado, I’d think of the Grand Lady of Liturgical Ceremonies, the Mass of all Ages, and a strange feeling of peace and comfort would come over me. I’d wonder how “she” was doing, now that she’d been brought up to date and given a new lease on life.
So I walked into a Catholic church one day. It was a modern church in the round, one of those theater churches, and around the bare altar in the center of the circle were burlap banners. I looked in vein for statues, pictures, crucifixes, anything from the not-so-old days, but all I saw were more burlap banners.
I went home and wrote a story, The Church of Burlap, and convinced myself that it was just as well that I’d taken another direction because this wasn’t the sort of thing that I could tolerate for long.
“Good-bye Church,” I said. “You were pretty once upon a time, but something happened…”
Years passed, and I ventured back, always trying to find something about the new liturgy to love, my eyes scanning the scene for something to value, hoping to be won over, to be convinced, to be converted. Again and again I’d leave disappointed, wondering how and why it all happened.
But then something did happen. In 2007, Pope Benedict XVI issued a Latin Mass motu proprio, allowing Catholic priests to celebrate the TLM anytime and anywhere they wanted without the permission from bishops. This was good news, because bishops—modernist bishops anyway—were the problem. Previously a priest had to request permission from his bishop to say the TLM, a cumbersome process that often got bogged down in webs of delay, obfuscation and sometimes outright rejection.
“That Mass is not the current form,” these bishops would say, as if the Grand Old Lady herself, the Mass of the Saints and Tradition, had somehow become heretical or suspect or was somehow an occasion of sin. Ah, yes, the modernist bishops were certainly unique, with their miniature miters and potato sack vestments; they seemed to go hand-in-hand with the secularized nuns in pant suits and fem-Nazi hair.
The Catholic Church has survived greater disasters, such as the iconoclastic controversy and the Arian heresy in the 3rd century. When you’re 2,000 years old, you’ve seen it all.
Things did begin to change, and they are changing now.
When I walked into St. Paul’s I noticed the quiet that precedes a TLM. It’s Quaker Meeting House quiet, not the gabfest that precedes many Novus Ordo Masses in some churches. (Speaking of quiet, a friend of mine, a sometime communicant of Saint Agatha and Saint James at 37th and Chestnut Street, tells me that before and after Sunday Masses there the congregation literally goes wild with talk and ‘shout outs’ to friends. He says he’s considering not going to that parish anymore because of the noise). When Fr. Gerald Carey, in traditional Fiddleback vestments, entered the sanctuary with acolytes carrying candles for the traditional Prayers at the Foot of the Altar, the time machine in my head did double flips. Then the Latin hymns started up and out came the incense. I felt the peace that I’d felt so long ago—yes, the transcendent lift started to take hold.
The TLM has been a 12 Noon staple at St. Paul’s now for several months, and Fr. Carey tells me that on good days he gets as many as 120 people. I counted about 110 people of different ages. There were also about eight to ten young acolytes serving at the altar.
“The Traditional Latin Mass has had a slow comeback,” he says. “But it’s always been part of the heart of the Church, but I think that the Holy Father would like it to be even more so, maybe because of the ways in which the Ordinary Form of the Mass has been handled.”
Fr. Carey is much more respectful of the Novus Ordo Mass than I tend to be (the NO Mass is also offered at St. Paul’s), but it’s easy to see that he feels passionately about the TLM. As they say in show business, he’s a natural at it. The morning I attended most of the people sat towards the back of the church as if to “read” the stand/kneel/sit cues of the people in front. A sturdy pamphlet, Saint Paul’s Mass Book for the Traditional Latin Mass, is distributed to all congregants. The pamphlets allow congregants to read the English translation while being “lifted” by the music and chants.
Everything in the TLM seems focused on God, on the mystery of sacrifice that the Mass purports to be, since both priest and people face the same direction. I found myself relieved on several occasions that this was a far less “talky” Mass than exists throughout all of Center City. This was less a Mass about “instruction,” handshaking and creating a theater-style reception atmosphere than it was about a “surgical” focus on what happened in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago.
Although Father Carey may not like me saying this, there’s no comparison between the two Masses. The Extraordinary Form is Mozart, while the Ordinary Form is definitely bottom shelf Insane Clown Posse.
“All the Italians in this area of South Philly are now in New Jersey in Washington Township,” Father Carey said. “We really don’t have a big Catholic community like we used to have, years ago.”
Years ago, when there was a large Catholic community here, St Paul’s would offer 8 Masses on a Sunday. The parish was about to eliminate the 12 Noon Mass when Fr. Carey brought in the TLM at that time.
Because St. Paul’s is the only Catholic church near Center City with a TLM, people travel from Drexel Hill, Bensalem and Port Richmond to attend each Sunday. News (and popularity) of the Mass has also attracted former parishioners of St Clement’s Anglo Catholic in Center City, and congregants from Saint Jude’s SSPX chapel in Eddystone, Pa.
Fr. Carey cares for two South Philadelphia churches, the Church of Saint Mary Magdalen of Pazzi as well as St. Paul’s. On Palm Sunday, March 28, there will be a blessing and distribution of palms at 12 Noon at St. Mary Magdalen’s, and then a procession through the streets to St. Paul’s for the 12:30 Solemn High Traditional Latin Mass.
It promises to be a stunner.
With the Italian market around the corner, and cafes down the street, this event seems like the ideal way to prepare for Holy Week and Easter.
Although Father Carey thinks that the Latin Mass motu proprio should have happened in the 1970s, he’s very grateful that the “Mass of the Ages” is finally making a serious comeback. “There are still Catholics who walk in here during the 12 Noon Mass and think that a UFO landed on them,” he says. “There are young Catholics in their 20s who have no idea that we used to receive communion kneeling at altar rails. Some don’t even know what a Latin Mass is. They’ll say, ‘What’s that?’ Some will walk in off the street, see this Mass, and be in a state of shock. One person asked, ‘Is this a private affair?’”
Father Carey says that when he distributes communion —there are no lay Eucharistic ministers in the Extraordinary Form—he sometimes sees people crying as they kneel at the altar rail. (Pope Paul VI was against communion in the hand).
When the Mass ended about an hour and fifteen minutes after it had begun, I was feeling pretty good. In fact, I was feeling so good that I walked into Center City before heading into Starbucks for coffee (and some reflection), and then Macy’s to window shop. In Macy’s, I encountered a Roman priest in a wheelchair.
“Are you a Catholic priest?” I gently inquired.
The priest nodded his head and waited to hear what I had to say.
“Father, I’ve just been to the most beautiful Traditional Latin Mass at St. Paul’s in South Philadelphia. It was a work of art. It was beautiful–I am thoroughly won over. Why did they ever change that Mass?”
“Don’t ask me,” he said, “I’m a traditionalist….I already know it’s a beautiful thing. Yes it is!”