Do today’s young Catholics really ‘reject’ the Second Vatican Council?

(LifeSiteNews) — Much is made today of the idea that a growing cohort of young people somehow are not “accepting” Vatican II. This is often leveled at those attached to the Traditional Latin Mass but also is a critique aimed at those who attend the Novus Ordo but have preferences for pre-Conciliar hymns, Holy Communion on the tongue, and strident, clear teachings on difficult issues.

Allegations of “rejection” of Vatican II are often used as justifications for why the Traditional Latin Mass “deserves” to be suppressed and is supposed to be the cardinal sin of traditionalism. Such an attitude toward young people who have more traditional views and preferences fails to understand post-Conciliar Catholics, their experiences, and attitudes.

This article is the first of two parts. In Part 1, I shall explain how Millennial and Gen-Z Catholics view the Second Vatican Council. In Part 2, we will examine how these young Catholics interact with the changes resultant from the council and its “spirit,” and explore in more detail why they feel the reproaches of the conciliarists are not adequate as we move into the second quarter of the 21st century.

How young Catholics view ‘The Council’

To have been a practicing Catholic adult before the start of Vatican II, one would have to be nearly 80 years old, and to have been one before the introduction of the 1969 Novus Ordo Missae, one would have to be at least 72 years old. This is a tiny minority of worldwide Catholics. Millennial and Gen-Z Catholics have no memory of the Second Vatican Council, and the first Millennial was born several years after the death of Pope Paul VI.

None of us know firsthand what life was like, either in the Church or the secular world, during the 60s and 70s. For young people now, the council is as distant history as the administration of William McKinley, the Boer War, and the reign of Queen Victoria was to their conciliar era counterparts. How relevant to their own lives did the generation of the Beatles and the “British Invasion” view Victorian England? Probably not very.

Since the end of the Second Vatican Council, the following notable occurrences have taken place: color TV was introduced outside the United States, abortion was legalized in most countries, contraception was legalized, the Soviet Union fell, the LGBT movement went mainstream, pornography became ubiquitous, the internet was created, gay “marriage” was legalized, the smartphone was invented, and “nones” (those who hold to no particular set of religious beliefs) became the fastest growing belief system in the West. Most of these took place before the first Millennial was born, and almost all of them did before the first member of Gen-Z.

As we young(er) Catholics look around us at modernity, we get the sense that the Church, pastorally, is struggling to meet the moment. There is a sense that the threats we face today are unprecedented. We’re watching a civilizational loss of faith in the West that has no historical parallel. We’re seeing few people our ages in the pews in most mainstream parishes. We’re seeing parishes close and consolidate, but priests nevertheless have to minister to two, three, or even four parishes due to a dearth of vocations.

Catholic schools struggle to keep the lights on; meanwhile, culturally, the wolves are at our door. It’s an “anything goes,” atomizing society, that has resulted in levels of loneliness and depression unseen previously in modern life. The number of people on anti-depressants or in therapy is staggering. All previous moral norms and mores are up for negotiation, it seems. One can’t even reliably know what the definition of “woman” is, if society is to be believed. Our politics are fraught and divided, to the point where people in the U.S. and parts of Europe worry about the prospect of civil wars. We’re in a societal crisis, turning to a struggling Church for answers. We stand on the edge of what, culturally, feels like an abyss, searching for solid ground, and hoping for the Church to provide it.

Pope Paul VI described Vatican II as “pastoral” in nature. It was, in the description of its contemporaries, intended to help the Church interface with the modern world. The problem is that the world has changed, and Vatican II’s most ardent defenders seem resistant to recognizing this.

As previously pointed out, for modern young people, the council is as distant from today as the tail end of Victorian England was for our counterparts who lived during the council. Would it make sense to have insisted that the pastoral strategies developed by Leo XIII and Pius X be the only possible approach for people living in the 1960s? Clearly, the conciliarists didn’t think that would be reasonable, as they abrogated much of those approaches (discarding Pius X’s Oath Against Modernism and focus on combating that heresy, for example). If the conciliarists could feel that such an interval of time and rapid change over the first half of the 20th century justified such a shift in pastoral approach, why are they so resistant to the idea that an interval of the same length and even more upheaval and change could also require a different style than what was settled on in the early 1960s?

For those who lived through the council and the first decade after its conclusion, Vatican II was the defining moment of their spiritual life. For those who lived before it, many (though not all) welcomed the changes, and were hopeful and optimistic that they would be a boon to the Church. Many from this era would talk about a “new springtime” for the Church to be ushered in by the shifts.

The optimism of the conciliarists for this project can be demonstrated in a cartoon, which was published at the time, in which we see a bishop labeled “the council,” with an arm around a layman labeled “mankind.” Both men stare off into the distance together, looking at a bright sunrise, labeled “a better tomorrow.”

Cartoon by Earl H. Wolf, published in The Catholic Standard and Times, December 4, 1964.

This cartoon well illustrates how many Catholics and clergy saw the council and the reforms and movements that were done in its name. Perhaps they had good reason to feel that way. The 1960s and early ‘70s were an era of change and optimism, of social and political reform. Was the optimism warranted? Were these changes the right call at the time they were made given what the decision makers could know? To young Catholics today, it doesn’t really matter. We are viewing the changes, not through the lens of 1971 but through 2024. We don’t see an Age of Aquarius. We see an age of decay. We don’t see a post-conciliar Church stepping forward with optimism toward a new springtime. We see a Church that seems unsure of itself in the midst of trying to manage a decline.

Often, it seems that the conciliarists feel defensive when younger Catholics point out the problems, quick to try to deflect blame away from the council. But from the young person’s perspective, it really matters not how justified the conciliarists may have been in their era.

We’re currently living through a massive de-Christianization event in the West. In nations that have been majority Christian since the end of the Western Roman Empire, we’re seeing a total collapse of the Church. Conciliar-era Catholics seem defensive of their generation’s great spiritual project and reluctant to listen to the concerns of the younger generations. The problem is the young have a right to be concerned. Since the council, historical Catholic populations have seen nothing but decline. Vocations are down. Parishes are closing. People are leaving the faith. The numbers are dire. In Europe, parishes that have survived war and famine for centuries are now unable to survive the tailspin modern religious apathy. The feelings surrounding this can be depicted in another cartoon:

Correlation certainly does not prove causation, and many advocates of the council allege the unfalsifiable claim that it would be even worse now had the changes not occurred. It really doesn’t matter if they are right or not. What matters is that if we continue on the current trajectory the Church will continue to wither and decline. If the definition of insanity is trying the same tactic over and over again and expecting different results, perhaps it’s time for a new strategy?

We’ve had 21 ecumenical councils over the 2,000-year history of the Catholic Church. Each one happened because the solutions of the previous were no longer enough to meet the new moment. Lateran V was convened to address the concerns of Protestantism before that movement had truly begun. It failed to do so, leading to the necessity for the Council of Trent. Imagine if Pope Pius V had just said “no, we just need to more fully implement Lateran V,” or if anyone who advocated for a stronger response to Martin Luther was accused of “denying” Lateran V. Such attitudes would have been absurd.

When churchmen saw that Lateran V’s reforms, whether they were good ideas at their time or not, were unable to meet the moment as the Lutheran heresy spread like wildfire, they did not double down, they recognized the need for change. This did not make them disloyal to the Magisterium, or “deniers of Lateran V.” Having concerns about the pastoral approaches of Vatican II to meet the challenges of the 21st century likewise does not make one a “denier” of Vatican II. There should not be an “end of history” mystique around a particular ecumenical council.

The defenders of the Second Vatican Council, and it’s much more nebulous “spirit,” claim that the skeptics are wrong because “the council reflects the will of the Holy Spirit” – implying that those who don’t wholly endorse the conciliar positions in 2024 are somehow opposing the very will of one of the three persons in our Triune God, but this argument is ludicrous on its face. Are they asserting then that the Holy Spirit has given no further guidance to us in the past 60 years? That in the Traditional Latin Mass communities, the booming vocations, conversions, reversions, baptisms, standing-room-only Masses, and 20,000 strong pilgrimages could not possibly have anything to do with the Holy Spirit? The Holy Spirit guides us continuously, and the tree of the Latin Mass has born good fruit – and not just the Latin Mass, the most reverent and traditional of the Novus Ordo Masses also gain heavy followings, and are filled with young Catholics and young families, seeking stable, vibrant communities in which to build for the future.

Perhaps because we did not live through it, and are not emotionally attached to it, we younger Catholics view the council more dispassionately than by those who lived through the conciliar era and were caught up in the thrill of change and the optimism it brought. For us, the council is a historical event, the same as the other 20 were, though obviously the most recent of them all. But we also see the problems. In Part 2 of this series, we will examine the experience of Millennial and Gen-Z Catholics within the Church and why the “Spirit of Vatican II” is a less effective approach for these younger people.

“...more dispassionately...”?

That’s some flabby prose right there.

I think it's the right word in that context. He's describing what the (truly dumb, illiterate, and bizarre) changes to the Mass and Catholic identity look like today in the eyes of young Catholics who are excited about the actual Faith.

They (and converts like sexagenarian me) don't get cranked up over some old Kubayah Kouncil from when I was 9 years old--and which was used to neuter and dumb down the Catholic philosophy and teaching that inspired me to come into the Church 30-odd years ago.

As a college trustee, I worked with old, modernist nuns--some of whom were very sweet, and some of whom were just bitter hippies and hard Leftists. I was puzzled at the nostalgia of those who treasure Vatican II as a Catholic proto-Woodstock.

As if that were a good thing.

The realism, humility, heroism, and gratitude built into Catholic culture and Tradition charitably and straightforwardly kick Woodstock's butt.

I’m 65 years old. I was in the first class of altar boys who did not need to learn the Latin to serve Mass. I loved being an altar boy. It was masculine. We were looked up to by the other boys in my class. I went to an all boys Catholic high school and would often attend daily Mass there with my older brother. I went on some retreats given by the Franciscan friars who ran the school and even very seriously considered becoming a Franciscan. On one of the retreats they gave for the students I remember sitting on the floor at Mass and passing the Eucharist from one student to the next to take Holy Communion by ourselves. My point is that I was “all in” on the changes of VII because I didn’t know any different.

Then I went to a Jesuit college. By then I had another influence in my life that kept me from going off the deep end so I would not be messed up by the Jesuit influence. There were still some truly great Jesuits there at that time who kept me from losing my faith. Among them was Fr. Frank Haig, Alexander Haig’s brother, and Fr. William Driscoll. I owe them an enormous debt of gratitude.

But I never really understood what had been stolen from me until I started attending Mass at Mount Calvary Catholic Church in Baltimore. The parish had been Episcopalian for about 160 years, and a focal point of the Oxford Movement in America. They had recently converted, as a parish, to Catholicism and are part of the Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of St. Peter. The Mass they say would have been familiar to St. Thomas More and St. John Fisher, except that it’s said in High English. My eyes were opened to the beauty and majesty of how Mass should be. It prepared me to discover the Traditional Latin Mass, which opened my eyes even further.

My kids were grown by this point, but they were open to the idea of Tradition. They all appreciate both the Ordinariate Mass and the Latin Mass, but their circumstances have led them to find orthodox and very reverent Novus Ordo Masses. But they all attend the TLM from time to time with their spouses.

A long way to say that this article resonates with me and my kids.

This might like a simplistic answer but here goes:

If you are Catholic, you are familiar with a prayer called “The Apostles Creed.”

If you study it you will see that it may be possible to change some things.

EXCEPT: EVERYTHING IN THAT PRAYER SAYS WHAT CATHOLICS BELIEVE.
ANYTHING THAT TRIES TO CHANGE ANY PART OF IT... A SENTENCE, TENET, BELIEF OR PHRASE...CANNOT BE DONE.

That’s what I believe.

Anything else is purely man-made rules and of little importance.

The Pope never is supposed to change any of it.
This pope, who is not Catholic, has his big nose into everything under the sun.

Hopefully that will change soon.

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