OUR LADY OF FATIMA  CATHOLIC CHURCH

Legend has it that St. Peter, fleeing from Rome along the Appian Way, met Jesus coming towards him. Domine. quo vadis? - Lord, whither dost thou go? - he asked. The reply - "I come to be crucified again" - made Peter understand that he was going the wrong way. He contritely retraced his steps so that Our Lord could die at Rome in him, Peter.       

Today the question is: "Whither the Mass?" It pertains, not to the Mass itself, which is our Lord perpetuating on the altar His immolation on the Cross, but to the manner or rite in which His Mass is celebrated today. The relationship between the Mass itself and the rite can be likened to that between soul and body. The body can go astray and involve the soul in its deviation. However the soul of the Mass, being Christ Himself, cannot deviate. If the rite strays from the true path, Christ can only leave it to degenerate and die. The Mass, on the whole, has been well oriented throughout its existence from the Last Supper until the promulgation of the Roman Missal of 1970.

The first three centuries witnessed the birth and growth of Christian as distinguished from Jewish and pagan worship. They were followed by the three centuries of the formative period of the Roman rite, opening with the Edict of Milan in 312, whereby Christians obtained freedom of worship, and closing with the pontificate of Pope St. Gregory the Great (590-604). Next was the broad sweep of the growth and development of the Roman rite from the sixth to the sixteenth centuries. Finally, in the four centuries from the Missal of Pius V (1570) to that of Paul VI (1970), many generations of scholars were engaged in a sustained effort of research into the historical origins and development of the Mass. These studies culminated in the liturgical movement of Dom Gueranger at Solesmes in the middle of the 19th century, which reached its apogee in the Gregorian reform of Pius X and inspired Pius XII's encyclical Mediator Dei of 1947.

Ideally, the Roman rite is celebrated facing the rising sun, symbol of the resurrection of our Lord. The word orientation is therefore appropriate to describe the direction of the Mass. Moreover, it need not be restricted to the physical sense of eastwards. Indeed we can say that the Roman rite had acquired in the sixty years before the Second Vatican Council, thanks to the Gregorian reform, a spiritual orientation as undeviating and as clearly defined as geese flying northwards in Spring in their beautiful echelons.

The phrase of St. Paul instaurare omnia in Christo in the first chapter of Ephesians could, since it refers to the future, be translated: "to orient all things in Christ". Similarly, the word instauratio. chosen by the Second Vatican Council regarding the future envisaged for the Holy Mass, could also be given the meaning of "orientation". For, thanks to the momentum which the Gregorian reform had attained at the time the Council began, there was no question of a reform in the sense of putting an end to disorder. Wild disorder in the domain of liturgy is a postconciliar, not a preconciliar, phenomenon. It results from loss of control on the part of the Holy See.

Paul VI moved firmly to prevent the ambiguity of the definition of "collegiality" in the text of Lumen Gentium from compromising the authority of the Holy See. But its authority was impaired, as events have shown, by ambiguity in the text of the Constitution on the Liturgy. In Mediator Dei of 1947, control over the liturgy is formulated in terms of only the Pope having authority to make changes, the duty of bishops being to enforce discipline. Articles 22 and 40 of the Constitution on the Liturgy relax this rule to allow episcopal conferences to make changes "within certain defined limits" and "in certain places and circumstances". They can "permit and direct, as the case requires, experiments over a certain period of time". The Holy See has found itself powerless to establish "certain defined limits" or limit experiments to "certain periods of time" and "certain places or circumstances" or prevent any part of the Mass from being subjected to experiment or enforce limitations, as called for by article 55, on communion under both species.

Remonstrances and rare attempts to exercise control have been ineffectual. Thanks to the energetic initiative of Paul VI, the Holy See took vigorous steps to maintain its teaching authority the moment it was challenged by the authors of the Dutch Catechism of 1965. But when faced by assaults on liturgical discipline coming at the same time and from the same country, the Holy See showed a weakness from which it has not yet recovered. Even before the crisis of the Dutch Catechism, the national Liturgical Commission of Holland was "experimenting with" (i.e. establishing by fait accompli) total verncularization and communion in the hand. At the same time, they made forceful claims, supported by the Consilium, or committee in charge of the Pauline reform, that the faithful clamoured unanimously for these changes. As soon as approval was wrenched from Rome, all the episcopal conferences joined in the hue and cry. They, too, promptly got what they wanted.

There are exceptions to every rule. But the rules of the Constitution on the Liturgy have been supplanted by the excep­tions. What then remains? Law, like nature, abhors a vacuum. If the process of legislating changes breaks down, wildness will rush in to take its place.

The imprecise permissiveness of the Constitution gave rise to the wild proliferation, especially in Holland, of new eucharistic prayers. The situation developed into one of general wildness of which we can now distinguish three main streams: wildness in manner; wildness in doctrine; and wildness in both manner and doctrine.

Albert Cardinal Decourtray

Deviation in the manner of celebrating Mass has recently prompted no less a personage than Cardinal Decourtray, Archbishop of Lyon, France, to call the matter to the attention of the Synod currently being held by his diocese. Writing in the May, 1992 issue of his diocesan paper, he asks, "After twenty-five years of postconciliar reforms, is it not time to take stock (faire le point)?" The deviation of which he complains consists of the assembly being focused upon itself instead of being oriented towards God. The exercise in narcissism that the liturgy too often becomes is often accompanied by the most deplorable indecorum. It is occasioned by disrespect for the sacred space in which altar and tabernacle are situated. It is no longer a sanctuary entered only by ordained persons and acolytes whose vestments, deportment, movements and words bring about a sacred atmosphere and help a mood of recollection to build up as the Mass proceeds.

In the Jewish Temple, only the High Priest could enter once a year the innermost Holy of Holies, approach its altar and tabernacle and invoke the Holy Name of God. Although the inner sanctuary of the New Testament is more open and accessible than its prototype of old, it is not less but infinitely more holy. It is therefore a degenerate practice to allow the unordained and unadorned to enter this space and replace therein sacred ritual with profane movements and gestures.

At the kiss of peace, it can happen that guitarists and singers, already stationed in the sanctuary, are joined by a band of lay "extraordinary ministers" entering from the nave. A mini-mob scene ensues as all embrace the celebrant and each other behind the altar. It heightens conviviality to have a hostess do the honours and pour libations. So a woman goes to the altar to take the jug in which the wine has been consecrated and pour the Precious Blood into a number of goblets which she has brought on a tray. In the meantime, another of the band goes to and from what is treated merely as a cupboard off to the side. No longer is it the Holy Tabernacle approached with awe and on bended knee by a priest. Now it is perfunctorily opened and shut to take out or put in its contents without the slightest sign of reverence, let alone adoration.

After distribution of Communion, the remaining contents of goblets and dishes are emptied back into jug and vessel. The latter is whisked back to the cupboard as unceremoniously as it was brought out Jug and goblets disappear into the sacristy. To be emptied and rinsed into the sink? Such is the familiarity that breeds contempt.

This form of wildness broke out at the very beginning of the Pauline reform to the alarm of Cardinal Ottaviani, the former prefect of the S. C. of the Doctrine of the Faith. Right from the start in 1964, the Roman rite was set upon by a swarm of experts eager to submit it to a fulguratingly rapid and radical process of change. By 1967, a new "normative" Mass was presented experimentally in the Sistine Chapel before the Pope and the synodal Bishops in session at Rome. A vote taken amongst the latter was un favourable. That made no defference as we shall see.

In 1969 occurred the scandal of the General Instruction. This was a lengthy repertoire of directives, both doctrinal and practical, elaborated in the course of 1968, for publication with the final text of the "normative" Mass of 1967. The whole was presented to the Pope early in 1969 by Annibale Bugnini, secretary of the Consilium. Paul VI signed the letter of promulgation under date of April 3, 1969. Apparently Paul VI thought that the General Instruction had been submited to the S. C. of the Doctrine of the Faith prior to being presented for promulgation. This was not the case because the Consilium, in order to bypass the slow-moving procedures of the Holy See which provide the necessary checks and balances, acted as an independent entity. This situation arose through Bugnini having unlimited and daily access to the presence of the Pope. Each day the Consilium was in session, Bugnini took the day's results directly to the Pope and sat with him for an hour or two, on occasion up to three hours, going through everything, line by line. Bugnini was thus able to claim or persuade himself that he had all necessary authorizations directly from the Pope.

As soon as the new Mass with its General Instruction was published in 1969, orthodox theologians in Rome protested vehemently. Cardinal Ottaviani pointed out to Paul VI, in a letter of Sept. 25, 1969, that "the Novus Ordo represents, both as a whole and in its details, a striking departure from the Catholic theology of the Mass as it was formulated in Sessions XXIII of the Council of Trent".

Article 7 of the Instruction defined the Mass in these terms: "The Lord's Supper or Mass is a sacred meeting or assembly of the People of God, met together under the presidency of the priest, to celebrate the memorial of the Lord. Thus the promise of Christ 'where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them' is eminently true of the local community in the Church". This definition, apart from its doctrinal deficiency, was evidently intended to please non-Catholics rather than proclaim the Catholic Faith in regard to the Holy Mass. Its ecumenical intent was inept as well as out of place. Our separated brethren could only be offended by the incongruity of ecumenical advances made to them in a Roman Missal where only strict Catholic orthodoxy should be found.

Whatever the purpose of having six Protestant observers in the Consilium, their inclusion inevitably poses the question of whether in fact the Pauline reform was misdirected into becoming an exercise in ecumenism. If so, it is no wonder that the "wild" mass eventually entered, as it did, the Catholic sanctuary through the ecumenical door.

The Sacred Congregation of Divine Worship issued a typical Latin text to which all translations must conform but refrained from stating categorically that the Swiss Mass must be corrected in order to remedy its doctrinal deficiency. The impression given was of a text that needed literary rather than doctrinal corrections. This was the minimising attitude shown by Cardinal Seper, prefect of the Doctrine of the Faith, in the matter of the General Instruction of 1969. In the light of all that has happened, it is clear that only an unambiguous recourse to the exercise of the Petrine authority can put an end to the disorder and restore control over the liturgy to the Holy See.

So far, this wildness has penetrated the Church only partially. It is an agenda to legitimize altar girls, feminize the priesthood, liquidate priestly celibacy, abolish kneeling and eclipse the revelation of Christ which He so often reiterated and strongly emphasized, namely that God is first and foremost Father. This nastiest of deviations is carried in the belly of a Trojan horse named "Inclusive Language". These wild changes are the initiative of the liturgical establishment, the same which, acting with the Consilium as its apex and directive force, has truncated the Roman rite. As soon as the Consilium received its mandate, it rapidly extended itself into a worldwide network of liturgical commissions, institutes, and bodies such as the International Committee for the English Liturgy (ICEL). Thus a liturgical establishment was setup which could move the Pauline reform forward inexorably like a juggernaut. It made no difference for a majority of the bishops of the 1967 Synod at Rome to vote, as it did, against the "normative" Mass presented before them in the Sistine Chapel. The juggernaut was already on the move, crushing down all opposition.

"The vast majority... have accepted the liturgical reform ...with joyful fervour" (Art 12 of Vicesimus Quintus Annus, 1988, commemorating the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Constitution on the Liturgy). It is embarrassing to find such a statement in a papal document. It can only make sense insofar as it refers to the majority of the faithful for the benefit of whom the liturgical reform was under­taken. But where was this "vast majority" in 1988? Where is it now? And where did this claim about their joyful acceptance of the reform originate? No doubt from the same coterie of expert truncators of the Roman rite and of pseudo-scholarly justifiers of what they did which deceived Paul VI in the affair of the General Instruction of 1969.

Another example both of their nonsense and their ability to get episcopal lips to ventriloquize it, is the Quinquennial Report of the Bishops of French Canada in 1983 which begins by saying that what is seen in the postconciliar church is only the apparent disorder of an ancient house being renovated. That explanation was borrowed from apologists in the Russian Communist Party who at the time were confronted by the question why, after sixty years of the Communist Revolution, the Russian economy was in such a state of disorder. They replied that it was only the apparent disorder of a construction site.

The vast majority of the faithful for whose benefit the postconciliar changes were made is the lost majority. It has not joyfully taken part in the new rite, but in an enormous exodus from the Church. The first phase of this exodus took place when countless millions of the mediocre responded to the call of temporal salvation promised by such books as The Secular City of Harvey Cox, which in 1965 was a multi-million bestseller in several languages. The spirit of secularism, which inundated the Church when she was in the throes of a crash programme to revolutionize her liturgy, still prevails amongst a large part of her members who refuse to oppose abortion.            .

The second phase of the exodus, which involves millions upon millions of the fervent, is still in progress. It drains away denser Catholic populations, especially French-Canadians, Spanish Americans, Latin Americans and the Philippine people. The revolutionary excesses of the reformers have reduced the Mass and the Sacraments to insignificance and, in consequence, to being perceived by hitherto fervent Catholic peoples as salt which has lost its savour. So they tread them underfoot in their rush to hear Protestant evangelical preachers who claim that eternal salvation is obtained by faith in God alone, in the sense that there is no need for the Priesthood and the Mass.

The Constitution on the Liturgy of the Second Vatican Coun­cil was promulgated by Pope Paul VI in 1963 simultaneously with the Communications decree Inter Mirifica which vindicates the right of members of a society to information which concerns them. It is an anguished concern which impels us to ask "Whither the Mass?"

originally printed in Christian Order, December 1992 pp. 580-87

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