There have been days in the last few years where events have occurred, and as a result, I made a resolution to avoid social media for a short time. Really, it’s a sanity play. Basically in order to maintain my sanity, I would need to avoid social media for a few days. Such occasions have included (but were not limited to): presidential and local elections, days following passage of various legislation I don’t agree with, announcements of COVID-19 mandates, and the days following the release of the Popeye’s chicken sandwich (the undeniably superior chicken sandwich). The days following the release of the apostolic letter: “Motu Proprio Traditionis Custodes,” were no exception.
I have something to say about this, and I wanted to wait to say it until passions died down and we could speak clearly about the issues we face in the wake of this announcement. The announcement (and the document itself) has motivated me to attempt to clarify something I always considered crucial to the cause of uniting us as Catholics as well as position it as something I feel was left out of the apostolic letter.
Why do I feel like what I have to say is important enough to add to the mire of perspectives that already fill our stories, reels, and timelines? Allow me to provide some context.
I have had the privilege of being involved in music ministry for the last twenty-two years. From my vantage point in the choir loft, on the altar, on a side stage, at a podium or pulpit, and even in the congregation, I have observed the church and how we celebrate Mass together. I have invested two-thirds of my life in facilitating a prayerful and solemn Mass in 27 states, in 5 countries, and in my own parishes. I have observed, and am deeply involved in the creation of beautiful music that reveals the mystery of the Eucharist for our Church.
Let’s dive a little deeper into what I am and am not, with regard to credentials and experience. I am a professional musician, classically trained, and fluent in more than a dozen styles of playing. I am a composer of sacred and non-sacred music for voice and ensemble playing. I travel the world providing sacred music for various causes, events, conferences, and occasions, and have had the privilege of being able to do so in the company of the most talented, prolific, and beautiful people. The music I help facilitate, stylistically speaking, comes from multiple traditions including (but not limited to): ancient, traditional, contemporary, and modern. When I am not on the road, I cantor at a beautiful church in New Orleans (built in 1833) for both the extraordinary form and ordinary form Masses on a weekly basis. I promise I am not humble-bragging.
I do not have a significant or proficient background in philosophy or theology. I did not attend seminary, and I have never formally held a music director position at a church (by choice). I am not an expert on liturgy from either the current or 1962 missal. When we consider the validity behind a certain position or point of view, often our first thought will be, “Who is this guy, and how does he know this?” There’s a reason many colleges and universities reward people with honorary degrees, even though they did not attend the college. My point is, sometimes experience can speak truth in conjunction with formal teaching. Coincidentally, you probably see this the most in music and in the arts.
If I’m going to talk about what I believe the Motu Proprio left out, I must initially speak about what it included. First, and above all, I would encourage you to read it yourself. Second, my summary would more or less state the following: Pope Francis has authorized bishops to decide which churches in their diocese can and cannot celebrate Mass in the extraordinary form (Latin Mass). Detailed in article two of the Motu Proprio, “Art. 2. It belongs to the diocesan bishop, as moderator, promoter, and guardian of the whole liturgical life of the particular Church entrusted to him, to regulate the liturgical celebrations of his diocese. Therefore, it is his exclusive competence to authorize the use of the 1962 Roman Missal in his diocese, according to the guidelines of the Apostolic See.”
The Apostolic letter goes into more detail about how the bishops should qualify and authorize the use of the Latin Mass, so I encourage you (again) to read the document.
Admittedly (and in my opinion), I thought this was a slightly aggressive move on his part. What is the impetus behind this bold decision? Let’s start with the first section of the Motu Proprio:
“In order to promote the concord and unity of the Church [emphasis added], with paternal solicitude towards those who in any region adhere to liturgical forms antecedent to the reform willed by the Vatican Council II, my Venerable Predecessors, Saint John Paul II and Benedict XVI, granted and regulated the faculty to use the Roman Missal edited by John XXIII in 1962. In this way they intended “to facilitate the ecclesial communion of those Catholics who feel attached to some earlier liturgical forms” and not to others. In line with the initiative of my Venerable Predecessor Benedict XVI to invite the bishops to assess the application of the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum three years after its publication, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith carried out a detailed consultation of the bishops in 2020. The results have been carefully considered in the light of experience that has matured during these years. At this time, having considered the wishes expressed by the episcopate and having heard the opinion of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, I now desire, with this Apostolic Letter, to press on ever more in the constant search for ecclesial communion. [emphasis added]“
My take-away is that a survey of bishops suggested that there is growing division in their dioceses with respect to those who attend Mass in the extraordinary form and those who attend Mass in the ordinary form.
That said, I recognize that there are numerous points in this apostolic letter that we can hone in on and discuss. For my part, and for the purpose of this piece, I want to focus on the “division” that the pope makes reference to throughout the Motu Proprio. I want to talk about where the division may have originated and how it is perpetuated.
As I mentioned, I have had the advantage of participating in both ordinary and extraordinary form Masses most Sundays for the last six years. It is an advantage because, relevant to our discussion here, this job has given me access to churchgoers who prefer one form of Mass to the other. In conversations with these individuals over the years, I can say confidently that (while the vast majority recognize the validity and potential reverence each Mass provides) I know several individuals who both quietly and boldly reject the ordinary form Mass as being a valid and appropriate way to celebrate the Mass. In addition, many, but certainly not all, of those individuals outright reject the many changes brought to the liturgy after Vatican ll. To reiterate, though I used the word “several” to refer to the individuals who I know that share this point of view, they do not represent the vast majority of attendees who are (as the Motu Proprio puts it) “those Catholics who feel attached to some earlier liturgical forms”.
So then, the question is, why do these people feel this way? Obviously, it’s a complex question, one with many answers. I am chiefly concerned with one possible explanation.
To unpack my point, let’s start with what Mass is. The Mass is the most intimate thing we can participate in as Catholics. We literally become one with Christ by receiving him in our bodies. It is such a solemn act that we caution against doing so if we are in a state of sin out of reverence for the body of Christ. We understand that we can’t simply receive Him plainly or in a casual way. We lean on the Mass to help prepare our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls for this act of receptivity. We also lean on the aesthetic of the Mass. Why do churches look different than office buildings? Why do so many of the most celebrated musical and visual works of art depict Christ and scripture? Why do we dress up in our Sunday best and why do the priests wear elaborate vestments? Culturally, for thousands of years, we recognize that the thing we do on Sunday at a church is different than the things we do in our day-to-day lives. The Mass is amazing.
With that in mind, let’s distinguish the Latin Mass from the ordinary Mass in a few ways. The Latin Mass is a beautiful ceremony, full of symbolism, scripture, and poetry. The beauty is inherent to the Mass, as the symbolism, scripture, and poetry dictated in the 1962 Roman Missal does not typically allow for variance. (Spoiler: The variance I’m referencing reappears in a big way once I spell this out). In addition, many of the churches where the Latin Mass is celebrated are also inherently beautiful due to the detail in the art and architecture that make up the building. I believe we have seen participation in the Latin Mass grow over the last few years because individuals feel attached to how they encounter Jesus in such a solemn way. I believe that it may be possible that people find this Mass more objectively beautiful than Mass in the ordinary form. In fact, I believe the extraordinary form Mass can often be a more objectively beautiful experience than the ordinary. Keywords: can and often.
James, you say that the extraordinary form Mass “can often be a more objectively beautiful experience than the ordinary form,” are you implying that the ordinary form can be as objectively beautiful as the extraordinary form, but often isn’t? KEEP READING.
Please do not continue reading unless you understand and accept that I recognize that many priests, staff, parishioners, and parishes work extremely hard to make their liturgies beautiful. Not all parishes have the opportunity or means to replicate the beauty we encounter attending Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica or Notre Dame de Chartes on a regular basis. Staffing, financial means, cultural needs, charism of the parish, and basic resources for creating art are just a few things that can limit or facilitate a beautiful ordinary Mass experience. Lastly, many parishes do offer a powerful, reverent, solemn Mass that is as objectively beautiful as Mass in the extraordinary form.
One of the distinctions, which I made reference to earlier, is that the extraordinary form Mass does not allow for much variance in how the liturgy is conducted. In other words, you do what the missal says to do, and you do it how it says to do it. The ordinary form Mass, in contrast, does have more “optionality.” In addition, there are many parts of the extraordinary form Mass that were removed (or rejected/ignored) when we created Mass in the ordinary form. Such parts and gestures include, but are not limited to: antiphons, ad orientem posture, sequences, incensing, the manner in which we receive communion, and many more that I’m definitely unintentionally omitting.
So how can we make the ordinary form Mass more beautiful? Let’s start with this simple idea and build on it: everything that is part of a Mass experience should point you to the Eucharist. The point of Mass is to have a worship experience that reverently, appropriately, and sublimely leads you to the pinnacle of our experience with Christ on this earth: receiving Him physically in the Eucharist.
One easy thing we can do is focus on making the building and our surroundings more aesthetically sublime and liturgically relevant, reflective, and informative. Make the tabernacle easy to find, and if possible, have it be the center of attention. Adorn the walls with beautiful artwork and tapestries that tell the story of creation or illustrate the lives of the saints. Invest in depictions of the Stations of the Cross that are vibrant and challenging but easy to interpret at the same time. If your parish is named after a Saint, then invest in a beautiful icon of that person and make it apparently noticeable. If you have stained glass, do the images clearly and vibrantly depict images from church history and scripture? Do they make sense or are they just colors for color’s sake? Stained glass is a heavy investment, I get that, but it’s worth the cost. How many people found Jesus by staring up at the rose window in Notre Dame de Paris over the last thousand years? In World War 2, the French would remove the stained glass from their ancient churches so that the windows weren’t destroyed by the bombardment. I think they knew that prioritizing the protection of art and beauty had the potential to heal when the time came.
The risk of worshiping in a building that is plain or unremarkable is that we can lose the connection between receiving the Eucharist and why we do it in the first place. The building helps prepare your heart for a very solemn act. When it comes to beauty, the stakes are high, and the risk is losing souls.
One other thing we can focus on is emphasizing quality and limiting gratuitous and illogical liturgy. One of the reasons that Mass in the extraordinary form can be a more objectively beautiful experience is that there is little room for gratuity (or “extra stuff”) and variance. Every antiphon, reading, musical selection, and garment represents the day in the liturgical calendar. There are no irrelevant musical selections. There are no “greatest hit” songs from our church tradition that are selected for the purpose of forcing us to sing because they are familiar, or chose merely to make us feel good. Music in the extraordinary form Mass isn’t chosen to emotionally manipulate congregants. It is chosen because the music plays a role in that particular Mass for that particular day. It is chosen to reflect the liturgy of the word and, ultimately, aid in preparing the heart for a solemn act (not unlike the aestheticism of the physical surroundings, as previously mentioned).
Let’s dive a little deeper into musical selection. One of the reasons that the extraordinary form Mass can be objectively more beautiful is that the music chosen is (supposed to be) logical and relevant. How many times have you gone to an ordinary form Mass, and at the recitation of the alleluia preceding the gospel, the verse did not match the verse listed for that Sunday in the missal? Instead it was selected from a list of ten or so verses that the composer ascribed to that particular alleluia composition. That is illogical and disconnected. Similarly, if a lector cannot approach the altar and divert from the required readings, then why can the cantor do it? There is a reason the church designed the liturgical calendar the way she did, and it is intended to help prepare your heart for a very solemn act. Further, we have over one thousand years of musical tradition, we need to use it to serve the Mass in conjunction with the physical surroundings and environment so provides us with the opportunity to educate and challenge congregants to “go deeper” and use the music as a prayer that is perfect for today’s liturgy. In addition, we sometimes introduce Mass parts to the congregation prior to Mass if the music ministry made a change to the setting they were previously using. Taking the time to clue your congregation in as to why music was chosen for that Sunday forms them in their faith and helps them pray. It helps them go deeper. It is an invitation.
In terms of quality, let’s make sure that the lectors are gifted in the way that they proclaim scripture, and let’s make sure our singers are gifted in the way they proclaim music. We would not invite a person to read at Mass if they couldn’t read, and we shouldn’t invite an individual to lead music for the congregation if he/she cannot sing. This may sound insensitive, but in an effort to eliminate disconnections during Mass, I think it needs to be a central priority. There are many practical things we can elect to do in order to increase the quality and substance of our Mass. We can increase the quality by adding the optional recitation of antiphons. We don’t even need to sing them; we can do as little as recite them if need be. These mini readings are focused on helping us make the connections between the liturgy of the word, the liturgy of the Eucharist, and the liturgical calendar. In addition, we can add devotions to our Blessed Mother or even the patron saint of the parish. Re-instituting ad orientem posture and the use of the communion rail are also (in my opinion) some great options.
I think it’s important to state, too, that the disposition of those who serve in Mass is extremely important. Mass is not a place to be a celebrity, no matter how many people come listen to you speak, how many concerts you have planned, or how many records you’ve sold. In the Mass, your humble disposition should qualify you first, and then the consideration of your credentials. One of my favorite things about traveling and doing music for Mass is that I get to see the transition my artist and well-known priest friends make when they serve. They become small. They humble themselves, and they are there to receive Jesus. It both forms and challenges me to do the same, and it can have the same effect for a congregation. Please check your celebrity status at the door.
Lastly, Mass is a ceremony of connections. Making connections helps us grow closer in our relationship to Christ. How do we connect the experience of the Mass with the solemn act of receiving Communion if the experience of the Mass does not lend itself to revealing the mystery of the Eucharist? Christ’s mystery is revealed in the architecture, the stained glass, the paintings and icons, the statues, the garments, the music, the literature, the community, and in the calendar. How can we expect people to get anything out of the ordinary form Mass if we break these connections?
People are hungry for these connections, and if they don’t have the opportunity to receive them, they may find themselves looking for another place to attend an ordinary form Mass, or even another type of service altogether. In some ways, we see this very often when a family decides to stop attending Mass at their parish, and start attending a service at the mega church down the street. (No disrespect to our protestant brothers and sisters at all. We have a great deal to learn from them in many ways). I think this can explain why many Catholics have been embracing the extraordinary form Mass. They were hungry for a truly beautiful experience, and they found one.
My friends, we have an “ordinary problem.” Further, this is what I mean when I claim that the Motu Proprio was incomplete, and “left something out.” In my opinion, when the pope issued the Motu Proprio, it was an aggressive, incomplete, and poorly communicated gesture. Despite that, I believe he was doing something he believed was the right thing to do, and I also believe he had the authority to do it. I mean, after all, he did it to address a growing division in the church. Speaking of…
The division that the pope is trying to address is that which is perpetuated by a minority of churchgoers who believe the ordinary form is an incorrect, irreverent, and invalid Mass. The truth is, I believe that this division does exist. My work allows me access to people who espouse this belief and promote it in their communities. These are good people, and are often very well educated, informed, and experienced. Do not dismiss them. Many of them don’t even consider these conversations to be divisive. That said, I believe this division is dangerous.
For priests and staff, please make your ordinary form Mass truly and objectively beautiful. Churchgoers, please advocate for a more beautiful Mass experience in your parish. If you speak up for the Mass half as much as you speak up for the quality of your kids Catholic school lunch, we may solve this issue in no time.
One last note, a dear friend of mine brought up a valid question the other day: “Why would the pope be so concerned with this issue when we are dealing so many other more important things?” We’re all coping with the effects of years of covered up sexual abuse in the church. We are hungry for leadership on how to live in and raise a family in a world that challenges Catholic social teaching. I get this, and in many ways I echo the same concern.
Why is this such a priority? I think it’s a good question, and an important one. Personally, I understand why the pope has made this a priority. I don’t think he has any real reservations about orthodoxy or traditional worship. I think he understands that we need to be a united church: one holy, catholic, and apostolic church. This division is incredibly dangerous because it’s happening internally, like a cancer that hasn’t been discovered. How can we expect to encounter and evangelize outwardly (and by example) to a world that challenges what we believe if we are a “house-divided?” How can we expect to heal as a family if we are not united as a family? The most dangerous division comes from within the church. If we can unite as a church (at least in how we worship Jesus in the Mass) perhaps we can take on the external challenges more effectively.
Thank you for reading. If you can anything away from this, let it be the idea that we can unite as a church around the purpose of making our ordinary form Mass just as objectively beautiful as the extraordinary.
I'm happy to continue the conversation individually, please feel free to email me at jlrosenbloom2007@gmail.com
