It is possible to make this profound reality visible by celebrating the Novus Ordo Mass in ways that make the continuity with tradition much more obvious. The Novus Ordo permits that Mass be celebrated with all its parts, or the canon and ordinary parts, in Latin. It permits Mass to be celebrated ad orientem (facing the Lord); the traditional first canon may be used; Gregorian Chant is still to be given "pride of place"; incense may be used and sacred polyphony sung; altar boys, bells, patens, communion rails where people may kneel if they choose, beautiful and noble vestments and sacred vessels; all this is permitted in the Novus Ordo. Permitted, but too rarely experienced.All well and good. I applaud Fr. Fessio for these observations, as well as for his own undertakings in respectful ad orientem celebrations of the Novus Ordo liturgy. Would that we had more priests like Fr. Fessio, and more Novus Ordo Masses such as his.
But did you notice anything peculiar about the passage quoted above? I couldn't help noticing all the qualifying, conditional terms -- "possible," "permits," "may be," "if they choose," "is permitted," etc. Well, of course these things are all permitted. Some of you may recall the photograph inside Michael Davies' booklet, The Catholic Sanctuary and The Second Vatican Council, which pictures a magnificent traditional Altar with Communion rail and bears the following note: "The beautiful sanctuary of The Church of the Oratory, London, after all the mandatory post-Vatican II changes have been made -- that is, no changes have been made to the pre-conciliar sanctuary." That's the problem, isn't it: none of these changes have been mandated, so of course the status quo ante in respect of these changes is going to be "permitted"! That goes without saying. The problem is how we've gotten the unmandated changes foisted upon us as essentially institutionalized abuses.
The other thing about this passage was that I just couldn't repel the feeling of some interior disconnectedness and an aspect of artificiality, if you will pardon the expression, in all of these references to "altar boys, bells, patens, communion rails where people may kneel if they choose, beautiful and noble vestments and sacred vessels," etc. Something strikes me as askew here, as lacking integration, if not integrity -- although I hasten to insist that I don't for a moment question the integrity of Fr. Fessio for whom I have the utmost respect.
What I find myself at pains to commend Fr. Fessio for is his willingness to publish the book to which his above quoted words were written as part of his Foreword, namely Martin Mosebach's The Heresy of Formlessness: The Roman Liturgy and Its Enemy, translated by Graham Harrison (Ignatius Press, 2003), and bearing the inscription "For Robert Spaemann, in gratitude." Mosebach sees no hope but for a restoration of the traditional Latin Mass, and Fessio, of course, as a partisan of the "reform of the reform," does not agree with him. Yet Fessio saw fit to publish Mosebach's book because of his intuitively formidable and incisive critique of the jarring break with tradition in the contemporary forms of the liturgy. Hat tip to Fr. Fessio! But here's the kicker -- look at what Mosebach writes about the Novus Ordo!
I have described my conviction that it is impossible to retain reverence and worship without their traditional forms. Of course there will always be people who are so filled with grace that they can pray even when the means of prayer have been ripped from their hands. Many people, too, concerned about these issues, will ask, "Isn't it still possible to celebrate the new liturgy of Pope Paul VI worthily and reverently?" Naturally it is possible, but the very fact that it is possible is the weightiest argument against the new liturgy. (emphasis added)Think about it. There's more to that than first meets the eye ...
And while you're thinking about that, here's something more:
Perhaps the greatest damage done by Pope Paul VI's reform of the Mass (and by the ongoing process that has outstripped it), the greatest spiritual deficit, is this: we are now positively obliged to talk about the liturgy. Even those who want to preserve the liturgy or pray in the spirit of the liturgy, and even those who make great sacrifices to remain faithful to it -- all have lost something priceless, namely, the innocence that accepts it as something God-given, something that comes down to man as a gift from heaven. Those of us who are defenders of the great and sacred liturgy, the classical Roman liturgy, have all become -- whether in a small way or a big way -- liturgical experts. In order to counter the arguments of the reform, which was padded with technical, archaeological, and historical scholarship, we had to delve into questions of worship and liturgy -- something that is utterly foreign to the religious man. We have let ourselves be led into a kind of scholastic and juridical way of considering the liturgy. What is absolutely indispensable for genuine liturgy? When are the celebrant's whims tolerable, and when do they become unacceptable? We have got used to accepting liturgy on the basis of the minimum requirements, whereas the criteria ought to be maximal. And finally, we have started to evaluate liturgy -- a monstrous act! We sit in the pews and ask ourselves, was that Holy Mass, or wasn't it? I go to church to see God and come away like a theatre critic. (emphasis added)Read this book. I picked it up at the conference in Kansas City. It's the most interesting of the new reading material I brought home with me. It's not available on Amazon for some reason, but I'm quite certain you can purchase it directly from Ignatius Press.
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