We'll Take "The Quiet Mass"

Early one Sunday morning, my son, age 3, asked whether we were going to the "quiet Mass" or the "fun Mass." The choice was between the 100-mile drive our family makes once a month to Atlanta to attend a church that offers the Tridentine Rite — the old Latin liturgy that prevailed until 1969, when the Vatican II reforms were implemented — and the quick hop down the road to our local parish church in Auburn, Alabama.

There, we can see friends and neighbors, sing along to bouncy liturgical music, feast on donuts afterward (the Latin Mass in Atlanta offers only hard cookies), and be home in no time. My son was relieved — but also disappointed — to learn that this wasn't the Sunday of the "quiet Mass," when we make our monthly trek to be part of what every Catholic in the world experienced 30 years ago.

Yes, the new Mass (Novus Ordo Missae is its Latin name) is "fun." It's accessible and community-minded. Our local parish isn't one of those where abuses thrive, such as making up our own liturgy or letting lay people preach their own theologies in sermons. Our priests love the faith and adhere strictly to the rubrics that the Church has set forth for the Mass's celebration. Their homilies are not overly politicized. And they do their best to invest the English liturgical text (a victim of a tone-deaf translation committee) with profundity.

Nonetheless, the overall effect of our parish Mass is not so much scandalous as spiritually and aesthetically prosaic. Despite the new liturgy's attempt to reach us where we are, its effect is oddly abstract and distant compared with that of the old. It's great to be with the community and hear a nice homily, but the whole point of the Mass is something very different: that in the sacrifice on the altar, the bread and wine are transformed into the Body and Blood of Our Lord. In the multitude of readings, greetings, and songs in our parish church, that point tends to fade into the distance.

Even my toddler son and my older daughter, age 6 (my youngest is a baby), understand that something is missing at the "fun Mass." I make a point of never disparaging the new rite in my children's presence. That's because I recall a conversation I once had with a fallen-away Catholic. She said, "Oh yes, my father loved the Latin Mass. After Vatican II, he refused to go to church at all." I wondered at the time if her father's stubbornness position inadvertently played a role in his daughter's loss of faith. I didn't want that to happen to my children, so I swore that I would always keep my complaining to myself. I want my children to grow up as faithful Catholics, regardless of which rite they attend.

But can the new rite ensure this as well as the old? The old rite provides theological depth, transcendental complexity, the right mix of exterior and interior textures, and a historical link to the whole of Catholic liturgical tradition. Can a rite designed in 1969 do the same? I'm not taking any chances by denying them exposure to the old rite as well as the new.

I've tried to put myself in their place and deduce why they are attracted to this old-fashioned ritual, which is not inherently child-friendly. Maybe it's the smell of incense and the strange sights and sounds: the clanking chain of the thurible, in which the incense burns; the complicated altar choreography; the high-pitched Sanctus bells. Maybe it's the Gregorian chant, a form of music so intrinsic to the Faith, it seems to evangelize all by itself. Or the silence in the church before and after Mass. Even the very unfamiliarity of the Latin language that challenges their ears.

Most likely, my children treat the old Latin Mass with respect and deference for the same reason my wife and I do: the entire liturgy takes us far away from everyday life, envelops us in a sense of mystery and spiritual solemnity, transports us out of time and place, and feeds our souls. It is not one thing in particular but the whole package, so integrated and thick with meaning, so radically unfamiliar and yet deeply penetrating, that causes us to hope that the Church will no longer treat this Mass as a bone thrown to quirky people willing to drive long distances to attend it, but as a mainstream part of everyday Catholic life, as it once was.

Catholic writers such as Michael Davies have gone to great lengths to demonstrate the theological superiority of the old Mass and its continuity with the practices of the early Church. Philosophers such as Catherine Pickstock of Cambridge University have contended that the old Roman Rite is so significant as a distinct language form that it solves the very riddle of linguistic meaning that the French deconstructionists have raised. She argues that the old liturgy, developed over 10 centuries, emerged as neither pure "text" nor pure revelation from God, but a "middle voice" between time and eternity, one that takes us to truth.

But in the end, such arguments are not as important as the simple fact that the Latin Mass calls me personally and intimately to communion with God, and that everything that happens during that hour is directed toward that goal.

The Tridentine parish in Atlanta that we attend, St. Francis de Sales, opened only last year and is one of the few in the country where all the sacraments are offered in pre-Vatican II form. The pastor, the Rev. Mark Fischer of the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter, a Vatican-approved order dedicated to the Tridentine rite, raised money to purchase a former Baptist church on the outskirts of town — and with its plain red brick exterior, hanging interior ball lights, acoustic ceiling (think public school, circa 1955), and pile carpet, let's just say this is no Chartres.

And yet the people come. There are two Masses on Sunday, and both are three-quarters full and growing.

Children of all ages can be seen at these Masses. In fact, most of the people there seem to be under 40 and over 65, with the generation that came of age during Vatican II conspicuously underrepresented. Many, like us, travel long distances to attend. The congregation includes a broad cross-section of races, ethnic groups, and social classes. What unites us all is a love of the old liturgy and our faith.

Why, if the case for the old Latin Mass is so apparent to so many of all ages, do we have to drive so far to find it? Part of the answer may lie in Church politics (many liturgists have invested heavily in the notion of "reform" that the new rite seems to entail) and part in sheer inertia. The new Mass is now the "tradition" in most parishes, like my own in Auburn.

Still, I'm inclined to think that eventually the majority of Catholics will come to recognize — and reinstate — the beauty and profundity of the "quiet Mass" of the Tridentine rite, which my 3-year-old son can see so clearly.

We drive about 15 miles to attend a VERY reverent, partial-Latin NO Mass--the option is about 3 miles to the local parish which has an increasingly -flagrant- abuse -of -the -ritual problem. The more distant Church is also older--vaulted ceiling, stained glass, elaborate woodcarved reredos, "high" pulpit, etc., etc.

The first time our 8-year-old was in the more distant Church, she opened her mouth and announced that "this Church is BEAUTIFUL."

Out of the mouths....

I would like it if the inventor of the "children's Mass" would spend the rest of his/her days changing diapers endlessly. Perhaps an understanding of the native intelligence of children would, ah, rub off...

Nope.

It should be "POST hoc, ergo propter hoc."

BTW, I agree with you that a "vote" would preserve the NO Mass in the USA. But I am also convinced that the TOTAL lack of education regarding the Mass, its history, and the art-forms integral to proper celebration has a great deal to do with our shared projection of the 'vote.'

At the very least, such education would likely persuade many that their "Mass" is not exactly what it should be.

The first time our 8-year-old was in the more distant Church, she opened her mouth and announced that "this Church is BEAUTIFUL."

Sounds familiar.

Very few of our churches in this diocese retained their high altar and/or central location of the tabernacle.

Once we found the older churches that still have the high altar and central location of the Tabernacle, my kids (10, 8, 6) don't want to go back to the "new" style churches.

On mentioning that we will be attending any different churches than usual, my ten year old first asks where the Tabernacle is, and my 8 year old doesn't want to go unless the altar has the "old fashioned castles."

This is without any prompting from us. And I hate to admit it, but their common sense was the last word in deciding on our new parish choice recently. We thought of joining another diocese close to here to avoid the draconian hassles in this one with confirmation, but after attending, our children unanimously declared their desire to return to an old parish we found here with high altar and central tabernacle and good crusty old orthodox pastor.

>>The Anglican rite has much of the elegence that you are looking for.

I'm sure you're right. But what does that say about the New Mass? After all, the Anglican Rite is basically the Church of England service adapted so it's valid.

This confirms what Msgr. Klaus Gamber said in his book "The Reform of the Roman Liturgy": The New Mass is a much greater departure from the Latin Mass than were the services of Luther and Cranmer. Cranmer's service, with just enough changes to make it valid, is said by you and by others to be much more reverential that the New Mass.

Fr. Richard John Neuhaus has said the same thing about "high-church" Lutheran services.

While the public schools (here, at least) are starting children in Latin in 6th grade (and the teachers WANT to start them in 4th grade)....

Our Liturgy Wonk Club tells us that 'children don't understand Latin.'

Frankly, the orientation of the LitWonks is such that they will not ever worry about children. But their overwhelming sin is ARROGANCE. My kids are smarter than the Wonks are.

Frankly, the orientation of the LitWonks is such that they will not ever worry about children. But their overwhelming sin is ARROGANCE. My kids are smarter than the Wonks are.

These are the same people whose heads will spin and mouths froth as they scream rabid denunciations of the 'clericalism' of the pre-Vatican II Church.

Today's liberal modernist bishops and priests are corrupt, self-serving tyrants who desire not to serve Christ but build bureaucratic empires and massive monuments to themselves.

To these people, the Church--her sacraments, liturgy, theology, philosophy, science, art, charities, indeed the whole deposit of faith--are their private property to dispose of as they please.

They would not have been out of place among the Soviet apparatchniki, or the senior management of Enron.

Great article! Thanks for posting it!

In fact, most of the people there seem to be under 40 and over 65, with the generation that came of age during Vatican II conspicuously underrepresented. Many, like us, travel long distances to attend.

That would be me!

Lord knows I've tried, by attending the bishop sanctioned Tridentine rite near me. It was like stepping out of a time machine, transported back to the early 1960's. Women dressed in the long skirts so popular then and wearing mantillas on their heads. It was fascinating to watch the altar boys skillfully trained in Latin as they offered the responses on behalf of the congregation. My old missal was new again. The communion rail was stiff, cold marble but the host was soft as a cloud, just as I remembered it. The choir, comprised mostly of young adults, sang "on behalf of the congregation". I felt, as I always had, like a bystander.

The Novus Ordo mass has much to offer for those of us who wish to participate in the mass. Watching the priest consecrate the hosts sends shivers down my spine. In my ideal world, though, it would combine the best of both formats. Altar boys, three readings instead of two, responses in Latin and songs sung by the congregants. And, oh yes, those cloudlike hosts offered up at the Tridentine mass.

The Novus Ordo masses in Latin at Mother Angelica's new shrine in Alabama was the single most sacred, reverent, beautiful, comprehensible, and moving masses I've ever attended.

A M E N !! This is the Novus Ordo mass that I would love to see in my parish. Until then, there is always EWTN.

The Anglican rite has much of the elegence that you are looking for.

It's the Anglican Use. We are not a separate rite. It does have the elegant language, and reverence, that even the most reverent Novus Ordo lacks.

And yes, the translations are closer to the original Latin, than the language used in the Novus Ordo. Cranmer was not a member of ICEL.

Most American Catholics like the Novus Ordo and would "vote" to keep it

You and I have exchanged words on this topic to no effect in the past. Let me attempt it again in a bit less hot-head style.

Before the NO was implemented, Mass attendance among Catholics was quite high. In the 80-90 percent range from the figures I've seen. In the aftermath of the reform Mass attendance is now in the 10-20 percent range. It would seem that a fair assessment of the question of a popular "vote" should compare the NO and Tridentine acceptance in a climate where each is fully taught and supported by the Church. In that light, the Tridentine "wins" hands down.

When the NO was implemented, no vote was taken or considered at the time. What do you suppose the results would have been if they had? I'd wager Church-goers would overwhelmingly reject the NO in favor of the Tridentine. Do you disagree?

Should what you desire come to pass, that NO is abolished and Latin re-instated, that would not re-instate your 80-90% attendence of pre-Vatican II. What has happened is much deeper than language and ritual changes. Humanism has crept into the church, and man has, in a sense, made himself God, or has established independence from God. There needs to be a real repentance and conversion of heart so that one knows with all his being that he depends on God and that He alone deserves our highest reverence and our worship. Only then will the pews be filled again as they once were.

Actually, while I love the Latin Mass (Tridentine Rite), I'm not that big a fan of the "silent Mass." Before Vat II, there were many parishes where liturgical renewal consisted of saying (or chanting) the Mass audibly, which I found to be a truly wonderful thing.

Some parishes did it only in Latin, while other parishes would do it in English from time to time, using an approved translation (but only certain parishes, and only on an occasional basis).

In other words, liturgical renewal - that is, a Mass that was not whispered to an altar boy or roared through in fragmentary Latin - was already underway.

I have always felt that if the Tridentine rite had simply been revitalized by being made audible and by occasional celebrations in REAL translations into the local language for folks who might have been missal-phobic, everything would be fine right now.

The "reform" was already happening: the question is why the powers that be wanted to change the whole thing.

Actually, there's no question. Lex orandi, lex credendi. And that's what many of the not so good players in Vat II wanted to change.

NYer, I love the Mass on EWTN as well. I usually cannot see it entirely because of the times it is on - morning is getting the kids off for school, noontime I'm usually not home and I work most of the weeknights.

One thing I've noticed is that I do not hear the Creed on the EWTN Mass... usually it is said after the homily... how come it isn't that way on EWTN?

Our parish offers the Latin Mass and there are several Latin Masses about, including the indult. But I keep bumping up against the same issue. I can't understand what's going on. My wife thinks we should go to the Latin Mass. But how in the h*ll do you learn it? Is there a video or something? :-) I have no training in Latin to speak of...

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