Pope Benedict XVI is greeted by children on his arrival for his annual holidays in Lorenzago di Cadore, northern Italy yesterday
Posted on 07/10/2007 9:08:50 AM PDT by Pyro7480
Pope Benedict XVI is greeted by children on his arrival for his annual holidays in Lorenzago di Cadore, northern Italy yesterday
I STUMBLED upon a Latin Mass last winter. It was grim, joyless, interminable and disquieting. There was no music. Nobody shook hands or brought gifts to the altar. It was as exuberant a celebration of creation as an expired fly left to rot on a window sill.
The only fanfare that threatened was the persistent, pedantic locking and unlocking of the little gate in the altar railing. A priest passed through this gateway at one stage, came to the side chapel where I knelt and entered a confession box, prompting the formation of a long-faced queue of sinners.
All the while, the officiating priest droned on, with his chasubled back to the congregation. He was, of course, flexing the dead Latin tongue, but it could as easily have been Aramaic or the lingua franca of Mars, such was his incomprehensible mumbling. Clearly, he was having a private conversation with his Maker.
It was when I quit trying to eavesdrop that I noticed the disapproving glances. Worshippers in the centre aisles - youngish, older and oldish men and women, most holding missals with frayed marker ribbons - were squinting disdainfully in my direction. I did a quick inventory. Was I standing in a forbidden place? Did I lack devoutedness? Did I have serpents for arms, was a slimy green monster surging through my buttoned coat?
Then I discerned what was different between them and me: the women over there had their heads covered, mostly with flowing Grace Kelly mantillas, whereas my female head, to the eternal damnation of my soul, was unconcealed. I left before Mass was over.
In the porch, I read a notice listing the regular Latin Mass times and I resolved not to return. As I walked away, I remembered hearing that there used to be two public houses side-by-side in a village near my home town. One was called 'The Ramble Inn'. The other was 'The Stagger Out'. Their juxtaposition was an eloquent synopsis of my morning. I did not feel I had been involved in a religious ceremony. I felt excluded, belittled, resented - an interloper in my own Church, a survivor - for how long more? - of the internal schism that eats away at the insides of the Roman Catholic Church.
Condemns
How predictable it has become that, whenever the Vatican makes some announcement eroding more of its grudging democracy, the media condemns it as an insult to Islam or Judaism. So it was again last weekend when Pope Benedict lifted the post-Vatican II restrictions on the 500-year-old Latin Mass. What about reconciliation with the Jewish community? demanded the global commentariat, with more than a little justification.
But what about Catholics, for Godsake? What about the indomitable faithful sickened by the grievously sinful institutional cover-up of paedophile priests? What about the AIDS-virus carriers who could have been safeguarded by condoms? What about monogamous, loving gays? What about women?
Most 'liberal Catholics' will again bite their tongues rather than criticise this latest genuflection to the fundamentalist clique because, when you are pro-choice you cannot be a bit anti-choice too.
If some people favour a church rite more appropriate to the 16th century, their preference should be accommodated. As the post-Vatican II hippies put it: different strokes for different folks and amen to that.
But this Tridentinist concession is not a simple toss-up between guitars, tambourines and Kumbaya versus the Council of Trent. The pope's own profoundly political psyche puts paid to such simplism.
This is a man who waged a diplomatic offensive to get God into the EU constitution, who condemned record numbers of theologians when he ran the old Inquisition office in Rome, and who denounced feminism for undermining the structures of society.
This is the man who welcomed the illegal joint invader of Iraq, Tony Blair, to the Vatican as a fraternal visitor while threatening politicians in Mexico and Spain with automatic excommunication for legalising abortion and gay marriage.
Reprimands
This is a moral crusader bringing the liberals of the US and Europe to heel by dispensing reprimands and interdicts, as if he is the landlord of Catholicism.
As long as he reigns, women will not be priests. His holy grail of 'family values' is a pre-'60s kitchenscape of woman chained to the sink by her rosary beads. Being treated as second-class citizens is normal life for Catholic women. Being made to cover your arms by the Swiss Guard and having your president denigrated for wearing a flower in her lapel is par for the course. Still, it beats being burned at the stake.
THE past, however, has crept menacingly closer with this Latin Mass announcement. It is a statement about the priorities of the ruling theo-cons in Rome, at a time when a scarcity of clergy is a pressing concern in Europe.
Last Sunday, when the Tridentine news was percolating through, it was announced in a church not a mile from the one where the Latin version is routinely celebrated that evening Masses were being cancelled due to a shortage of priests.
In politics, as Pope Benedict well knows, emphasis is the message. And the destination on the message board reads: The Middle Ages.
She can stay a Catholic and just join the Benedictines.
I have it! We can send her to the Episcopalians in a trade for any orthodox high-churchers left over there, with a liturgical dancer to be named later.
(Piskies aren't Protestant; most of them aren't even Christian any more, especially the leadership.)
bumpus ad summum
The Unitarian Universalists said they'd take her but we'd have to thrown in a pizza.
Wish I could comment, but in my past life (pre-retirement) my work necessitated an asp’s tongue and wasp’s attitude.
Stuff like this could send me to the confessional for several weeks.
All I can say is that like Hillary’s girly hysteria in the presence of Lazio, if this babe feels so threatened by a change, she needs to marry rich and stay in some enclave.
Oh, please. And yes, I’m female.
Wheee! No bad music and no contrived kissy-poo. Boy, I tell you, there are times when I soooo want to go Catholic...
or brought gifts to the altar. It was as exuberant a celebration of creation as an expired fly left to rot on a window sill.
She thinks Communion is a celebration of creation? Are we absolutely sure this woman is Catholic?
AmericanMother, let me ask you something about kneeling. (BTW, that grey lace sounds lovely!) In my parish, many people cannot kneel; the elderly, some people have knee or hip problems, one fairly young woman looks perfectly healthy but has had back surgery and can’t kneel. All are very devout. How is this handled at TLM masses? If a person presents herself for communion, but is standing, what will the priest do? I am beginning to worry that some people might be afraid to attend the extraordinary Mass if they feel they are going to be stared at or judged for not being with the program, so to speak.
You don’t have to kneel if you can’t. You can get a dispensation for that. :)
Apologies for interloping but based on personal experience, I’ve seen the Priest go to the front pew where these folks are sitting, usually before everyone else.
I would recommend anyone wishing to recieve who can’t kneel sit in the front row.
How do I retch with a brogue?
I guess she didn’t like it.
The Church is obviously not going back to the Middle Ages since the discovery of America and heliocentrism and all the rest. Time to look ahead to some what-ifs such as finding life on Mars.
She's a sad case; might take 3 bottles.
Faster-acting than Guinness . . . .
Frank is going to be REALLY sorry to have missed this thread!
If you can't kneel, you can't kneel. You can kneel in your heart.
Works for me!!
Let’s take up a pot and buy one!
It looks a little stiffer in the picture than it actually is - it drapes well. The only problem is that on very straight fine hair (like mine and my daughter's) it tends to slide right off . . . . so I stitched little spring clips into the underside of the veil to clip it onto a lock of hair on each side . .. . so far so good.
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