At the end of last month, a number of documents were leaked from the chancery office of the Diocese of Charlotte. They outlined plans of her bishop, Michael Martin, OFM, to strictly regulate the liturgy in his diocese. These plans extended beyond the restriction of the celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), going so far as to clamp down on any practice in the Novus Ordo that may be deemed “traditional.” Mass ad orientem, Roman vestments, the use of the Latin language, bells at the Consecration, kneeling for communion and during Mass, chapel veils, and even the prayer to St. Michael are – among many other things – deemed no longer suitable for the celebration of Mass in the diocese. These revelations have been met with mass dismay and protest, not just from “traditionalist” and “conservative” Catholics around the country, but from the vast majority of the clergy and laity within Bishop Martin’s own diocese. The Diocese of Charlotte has been, up to this point, one of the most liturgically “conservative” dioceses in the United States, where such practices singled out in the leaked documents are commonplace among her parish churches. While there are many questions of authority and obedience in this standoff between a bishop and his flock, I feel there are those far older, wiser, holier, and more learned than I who can answer such questions with greater charity and clarity than myself. Therefore, I will endeavor to answer the question of why this disconnect exists between Bishop Martin and his flock. Why do people care whether they go to a TLM or a Novus Ordo Mass, or whether the priest faces them or the altar, or if they receive kneeling and on the tongue or standing and in the hand? Why make such a fuss over personal preferences? After all, what really matters is that we receive Jesus, which we can do whether they use a Palestrina Mass setting or a more contemporary setting. In other words: is the appeal of tradition simply a matter of personal preference, or is it something more?
The appeal found by many in the Traditional Latin Mass, and by extension the reverent Novus Ordo, lies chiefly in the fact that these celebrations are not primarily concerned with them. This may appear extremely paradoxical, as the Mass seems to be about what we the people receive. For these celebrations of the Mass, the crux (quite literally) is not what we receive, but Who we are receiving: He Who is Priest, Altar, and Victim. For the priest offering this form of the Mass, his thoughts lie principally not with what “the people” are saying or doing at any given moment, but rather with offering this magnificent sacrifice to God in a manner “right and for our salvation.” From this understanding, the manifold aspects that make a Mass “traditional” flow. The priest positions himself ad orientem not with the intention of “turning his back to the people,” but rather to lead us in prayer, directing our eyes (and by extension, our minds) to the cross. He prays in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew not for the purpose of “keeping the people from actively participating” but to honor those three hallowed tongues in which Our Lord’s inscription was writ over His Head as He hung for the salvation of the world, and to unite the entirety of the Church, irrespective of nation or tongue, in one sacrifice of praise to the Triune Godhead. He wears vestments richly adorned with gold and lace not as a form of “clericalism” but because he knows he is indicative of the Divine Savior, and his solemn vesture indicates the solemnity and gravity of what he partakes in. So it is also for the people who flock to these Masses in droves. They dress in the finest clothes they have not for self-aggrandizement, but because they know they are in the court of the King of Kings, the meeting place between Heaven and Earth. They kneel for communion not because they feel “holier” than other Catholics, but because they recognize that they are completely unworthy to receive the Lamb of God in any other manner than that of a child. They drive for hours to go to these Masses not because they enjoy spending their Sundays on the road, but because they find something of value in these Masses that is absent in those closer to them. They say prayers in a language they do not speak and sing hymns written by men and women of ages gone by not to worship ashes, but to preserve the fire that carried their forefathers through strife, wars, and persecutions.
For these Catholics, such practices are not a matter of “personal preference,” in the way one may prefer vanilla to chocolate, or Bach to Beethoven. These people feel these actions are a matter of justice, of rendering to God what is His due, which transcends any personal scruples. In this lies the primary difference between them and their brethren with regards to the Mass. For Catholics like Bishop Martin, the Mass revolves around what we experience. Hence, for them, the Mass setting one uses, or the choice of Eucharistic Prayer, or the celebration of the saint of the day is purely a matter of personal preference. However, for many of the clergy and laity that compose Bishop Martin’s flock, the Mass revolves around Who we experience, and therefore any and all liturgical choices are made with fittingness for this great action primarily in mind. It is my profound hope as a fellow Catholic who loves Holy Mother Church and Her perennial teachings that Bishop Martin and the multitude of Catholics, both clergy and laity, may come to understand that those who desire the Traditional Mass, or even just a reverent Novus Ordo Mass, do so not out of desires preferential, ideological, or prideful. Rather, they desire a Mass and a Church that is connected to Her past, that honors Her Saints and Her Savior, and that expresses Herself in a manner that is authentically Hers. In the words of the late Pope Benedict XVI:
“What earlier generations held as sacred, remains sacred and great for us too, and it cannot be all of a sudden entirely forbidden or even considered harmful. It behooves all of us to preserve the riches which have developed in the Church’s faith and prayer, and to give them their proper place.” (Benedict XVI, Letter to the Bishops on the Publication of Summorum Pontificum).
