Catholic Sensibility

The common, predictable criticism of traditionalists is that post-conciliar worship is too "horizontal." Frequent commenter John Heavrin opined that "A more vertical, individual approach to spirituality permits of no such self-deception." My experience has been the opposite. Mortals can find any number of distractions at Mass to promote their self-deception. In a recent visit to the Latin Mass Society homepage, I found these photos. Clicking on Birmingham, only three of fifty-eight pics had lay people in view; every other shot was about clergy doing things. In one Birmingham location, Mass took place in what looked like a parish hall with plastic chairs and an altar set up against a wall near an exit door. Great architecture is clearly not an essential for the 1962 or 1570 Rite. And with no organ in sight, I tend to doubt music was much considered here either. The vestments were anything but basement, though. The Tridentine Rite, like everything else of human fabrication, is no panacea for distraction. You can focus on the human-made peripherals of liturgy: the fine gold or silver vessels, the baroque vestments, the fine music (if you're fortunate enough not to be at a Low Mass) or the architecture and miss the point. In Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton writes, "A saint is capable of talking about the world without any explicit reference to God, in such a way that his statement gives greater glory to God and arouses a greater love of God ..." I think this notion was part of the consideration of the liturgical reforms. Twentieth century folks, especially Europeans, were in pain from their experiences of violence piled on top of more devastating violence. Millions of innocents perished as all civilized approaches to warcraft (an oxymoron par excellence) were discarded. Post WWII people responded with generosity and personal sacrifice to human need: the Marshall Plan, the Peace Corps, and other examples of outreach to those less fortunate. Consideration for others, even with no explicit mention of God: this is what was envisioned by Matthew 25: "Then the righteous will answer him and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?' And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.' Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.' Then they will answer and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?' He will answer them, 'Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.' The righteous may be misguided, but would they be so dense if God spelled it out for them? I don't think so. At one parish funeral last week, I noted one older lady singing every song, eyes looking up and around her. After Sunday Mass the next day, she told me the story of how the deceased (just around age 50) had recently been brought back to the Church by our new pastor. She was grateful he homilized right in front of the family pew. At the front pew, I was noticing one of the daughters comforting another (I think) daughter all through the Mass, embracing her head, stroking her back. My eyes were drawn to another pew of parishioners, all singing the songs, all involved in the Mass. The Latin Mass Society has missed the boat. The first thing of substance the Council had to say about liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium 2: For the liturgy, "through which the work of our redemption is accomplished," most of all in the divine sacrifice of the eucharist, is the outstanding means whereby the faithful may express in their lives, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church. What is the mystery of Christ? Rejoicing over the return of the lost sheep. Comforting the sorrowful. The gospel example of Christ is far more congruent with the "horizontal," my sensible pastor and parishioners, and with Merton's "saintly" ideal. "The saint knows that the world and everything made by God is good ..." The "too horizontal" criticism is a fallacy. There is danger anywhere in the mortal world. At any time, we can make a god of either rococo finery or chit-chat about out our golf game to avoid God. The Tridentine Mass, some might say, has more potential, more opportunity for lifting the heart to God. I don't buy that either. Fine architecture, fine music, gold and satin are all works of human hands. But those rejoicing at the return of the lost child, those comforting the sorrowful, people like these are aware that these works of God, these sisters and brothers, are worthy of regard, even during Mass. Far from being a perjorative, "horizontal" should be a badge of honor for Vatican II Catholics. We're not saints, not just yet, but at least we're not the track to goathood.