Posted on 05/10/2004 9:01:42 AM PDT by CatherineSiena
By Richard Fausset and Joy Buchanan, Times Staff Writers
Conservatively dressed Roman Catholics packed into a tiny wooden church a few blocks from the sand in Huntington Beach on Sunday to pray and chant in Latin, and to celebrate the priest who delivered them from all that they believe is lax, laid-back and touchy-feely in their religion.
They came to say goodbye to Father Daniel Johnson, the 75-year-old retiring priest who tripled the membership of this parish with his emphasis on the church's centuries-old traditions. Chief among them was introduction of the Latin Tridentine Mass, the ancient, highly choreographed rite that for hundreds of years was the only Mass celebrated by Catholics worldwide.
Because of Johnson's retirement, the Diocese of Orange has decided to stop offering the Tridentine Mass at St. Mary's by the Sea, saddening conservative Catholics who came from all over Orange County to experience the Eucharist the way it was celebrated for generations of sinners and saints: with all the pageantry and plainsong and traditional language of Rome.
Starting next week, St. Mary's will continue to hold Sunday Masses in Latin, but it will be in the form of the modern Mass, with different prayers from those of the Tridentine service.
The Tridentine Mass is "more holy somehow," said parishioner Georg Christa, 70, who learned the Mass as an altar boy in Augsberg, Germany. "The reason we have problems in the church is that we're getting step-by-step away from the holiness."
Parishioner James Lewis, 64, said he chose the Tridentine Mass because he did not want to be subjected to the modern Mass, with its "peace hugs," its "campfire music and hootenanny music."
"I think that stuff is distracting," he said. "It's inappropriate for a holy Mass."
The loss of the old Mass at St. Mary's does not spell its end in Orange County, where two churches, St. Michael's Abbey in Silverado Canyon and the Mission Basilica in San Juan Capistrano, still offer the service.
But the frustration of St. Mary's parishioners and their fondness for Father Johnson's conservative practices reflect a continuing tension in a religion seeking to maintain its relevance in the modern world without losing its reverence for tradition.
Believed to have existed since the 6th century, the Mass was officially standardized for Western churches by Pope Pius V during Rome's Council of Trent in 1570. For hundreds of years, it was the only Mass celebrated by Catholics worldwide. Then, during the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s, a new service was introduced — using familiar languages and allowing priests to face their congregations — and has been in use ever since.
The point, reformers argued then, was for the liturgy to be adjusted to fit individual priests' styles and worshipers' needs. Some conservative Catholics, however, were outraged, arguing that the Mass should not have been changed. Some priests even continued using the Tridentine Mass against the Church's orders until 1984, when Pope John Paul II decreed that it could be celebrated with the permission of local bishops.
That was like a clarion call to Johnson, who introduced the Tridentine Mass at St. Mary's in 1992. Johnson considers the old Mass a sacred liturgy symbolizing the Passion of Christ.
"I'm quite traditional," said the man ordained in 1954 who calls himself a "simple parish" priest. "The greatest thing that a priest can do is the celebration of the holy Mass. Maybe the modern way isn't the only way."
Five years ago, Johnson — who was born to devout Catholic parents in Michigan and grew up in Los Angeles, where he served as an altar boy — developed a cancer on his ear that required multiple surgeries and more than 30 radiation treatments. More recently, he came down with Bell's palsy, which paralyzed the right side of his face and prompted him to turn his favorite golf putter upside down for a cane. He plans to retire in Torrance with his brother.
Johnson stopped leading the church's weekly Mass several weeks ago, when the disease began affecting his speech. But on Sunday, after altar boys helped him to his feet, he delivered a long, often passionate sermon in English summarizing the success he has had in bringing some of the lost traditions back to this church.
With his head listing to the right and his voice wasted with age, Johnson's words were sometimes difficult to make out. But it was clear that he was no fan of New Age influences that have crept into some church services.
In the early church, he said, pagans were attracted by Christianity because Christians showed their love for one another. They didn't say, "Look at how ecumenical they are, or look how they're dialoguing with non-Catholics," he said.
He also paid homage to the Tridentine Mass, which many parishioners say was a key to the expansion of St. Mary's from 500 families to about 1,600 under Johnson's 25 years of stewardship.
Johnson quoted theologian Frederick Faber, who once called the old Mass "the most beautiful thing this side of heaven."
"I would agree with him," Johnson said.
The 2 1/2-hour service was indeed a far cry from the "folk Masses" many U.S. Catholics have attended in recent decades. A sign at the door asked visitors to wear "proper dress," and women were encouraged to wear lace veils over their heads.
At the beginning of Mass, 11 altar boys, most in red satin robes, announced the entrance of a coterie of priests with candles and incense. Father Justin Ramos, who said the Mass, walked down the aisle in a gold brocade cape.
Their arrival at the altar was marked by unadorned male voices from the choir that delivered Gregorian chant. Then Ramos walked back up the aisle, sprinkling the congregation with holy water that prompted members of the standing-room-only congregation to bow in waves.
In Latin, Ramos led a prayer for mercy and salvation:
"Ostende nobis, Domine, misericordiam tuam."
"Et salutare tuum da nobis," the worshipers responded.
Some church members followed the Mass in a missal that carried the English translation. French native Liliane Rains, 63, followed with a tattered Latin and French missal that once belonged to her father.
"When we went to Spain or Germany or Italy, it was in Latin, and always the same," said Rains, who grew up in Bordeaux. "You went to Mass and you felt that you were home. It was a wonderful tie, and I think we should go back to it. It made Mass universal."
Rains said she could understand why the church translated the Mass into different languages. Others took a stricter stance.
"Is this your first time going to a real Catholic Mass?" James Scott, 59, of Tustin asked a St. Mary's visitor. "Well, this is what it really is. Everything else is garbage."
Damian Garcia, a layman at the church, said he would miss the elements of the Tridentine Mass that give it its "vertical thrust," or emphasis on the adoration of God.
Parishioner Thomas Chand- lee, 72, said he would miss the beauty of the old Mass. Chand- lee was one of the many people who packed into the building next to the chapel to bid farewell to Johnson. Eight years ago, Chandlee converted to Catholicism, and he has attended the Tridentine Mass ever since.
Now, he said, he plans to start his Sundays in San Juan Capistrano so he can keep hearing the echoes of centuries.
"There's no question," he said. "It's like comparing Andy Warhol with Michelangelo."
(Excerpt) Read more at latimes.com ...
It's a HOOTANANNY!!
Very true.
This storm will eventually pass, and a beautiful restoration is already in place in many quarters. I firmly believe that.
We all hope that your beliefs may turn out to be well founded.
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