THE LATIN MASS AND THE ORTHODOX
By Brother Andre Marie, M.I.C.M, Saint Benedict Center
Spero News
Friday, September 14, 2007
These words of the Russian Orthodox prelate, which are a tribute
to tradition, are certainly welcome to traditional Latin Rite
Catholics. The Orthodox are well-known for their liturgical
traditionalism.
Under the headline "Russian Orthodox prelate welcomes return of Latin
Mass," Catholic World News ran a report on Patriarch Alexei II’s
positive reception on Pope Benedict’s motu proprio giving more freedom
to the ceremonies of the Classical Roman Rite. Summorum Pontificum
goes into effect as law on September 14, the Feast of the Exaltation
of the Holy Cross.
The Patriarch’s statement is of major moment, coming as it does from
the head of an ecclesiastical body known to be sparing in favorable
comments concerning the Holy See and the papacy.
Notably, the feast chosen for the law to go into effect is kept
alike by Latin Rite Catholics, their Uniate Byzantine brethren,
and the Orthodox. The feast is celebrated by all on the same date
(though the actual day varies because some from the above groups use
the Gregorian Calendar, while others use the Julian). The triumphal
theme of the liturgy seems apt for the occasion.
"We strongly adhere to tradition," Patriarch Alexei said in an
interview with the Italian newspaper Il Giornale. "The recovery and
honoring of an ancient liturgical tradition is a development that we
can welcome."
These words of the Russian Orthodox prelate, which are a tribute
to tradition, are certainly welcome to traditional Latin Rite
Catholics. The Orthodox are well-known for their liturgical
traditionalism. Though the dialect may be different, Alexei speaks the
same language of liturgical tradition as his occidental counterparts,
the Roman Rite traditionalists.
The Patriarch’s comments serve as a refutation of what is passing
lately for reasoned argumentation against a return to our Latin
Catholic traditions. I would like to consider some of these in light
of the Patriarch’s statement.
Recently, I have reviewed a couple of smug writeups from Roman clergy
of the liberal sort. They did not want to criticize the traditional
rite itself, or the Holy Father’s generosity in liberating its use.
Rather, they chose to dismiss the real significance of the development,
to assert that it is a pastoral accommodation to a few eccentrics and
aesthetes, and to emphasize that it will certainly not generate much
of an interest. What they do mount by way of actual objections are
criticisms of the way the Mass was offered "in the old days," i.e.,
the childhood years of the author of the argument.
The inadequate participation of the faithful at the Mass, and
the often sloppy way the priests celebrated the rite, were cited,
apparently in the hope that this information would put a wet blanket
on any enthusiasm surrounding the revival of the traditional rite.
The problems cited with the traditional rite included these: The
faithful said their Rosaries or wandered around the Church praying
the Stations during Mass.
For their part, the priests often mumbled the Latin quickly, said the
much shorter Requiem Mass when the ordo allowed it, and assisting
priests would often say their breviaries (rather than focus on the
altar) on those rare occasions that clergy assisted in choir, e.g.,
at a funeral.
These objections are not new. Assuming for a moment their complete
validity as objections (a debatable point), I note that, because
they are not objections to the traditional Rite as such, they are not
relevant. As St. Augustine would say, abusus non tollit usus, that is,
the abuse of a thing does not take away its rightful use. Otherwise,
corrupt government would prove the validity of anarchy, or a single
car accident would make us want to outlaw cars altogether (pace Al
Gore). This is very basic logic.
But let us not forget the Muscovite Patriarch. What might he think
of the following liberal occidental’s argument against tradition? A
priest-commentator I read objected to the fact that, in the old days,
the altar rail divided the lay people from the celebrant of the Mass,
thus implying that what was on the sanctuary side was somehow holier
than what was on the other side. This constitutes, so the argument
went, an offense against the holiness of the laity. After Vatican II,
we learned that we are all holy; the distinction between the priest’s
role and the people’s was deliberately blurred (though not done away
with), so that we could all function as a holy people.
Without going into the numerous errors of fact or doctrine in
the argument, for my present purposes, I note that there are some
very bad "ecumenical" dimensions to this objection. If we consider
ecclesiastical union with the Orthodox as a goal of real ecumenism, we
need to acknowledge that such arguments are not only bad theology and
untrue to our own tradition, but are also offensive to our separated
Byzantine brethren.
Like their Uniate Catholic counterparts, the Orthodox to this day
retain their beloved and traditional iconostasis. This marvelously
decorated icon screen, separates the sanctuary, where most of the
Divine Liturgy actually takes place, from the nave of the church,
where the laity assist at the divine mysteries. The priest goes in
and out of the "Royal Doors" at various points of the Divine Liturgy
(e.g., to communicate the faithful), but most of the sacred actions
he performs are concealed. Despite that, the Church is filled with
beautiful chant and incense, the overflow, as it were, of the holy
action taking place at the altar.
In other words, as the altar rail separates sanctuary from nave
in a Latin Rite church, so the icon screen separates the two in a
Byzantine church.
The Byzantine Catholics and the Byzantine Orthodox are not the only
ones, in addition to the traditionalist Latins, who partition their
sacred space. All of the traditional rites of the Catholic Church –
East and West – have some sort of separation of this nature, either an
altar rail, an iconostasis, or something similar. The Armenians, for
instance, use a curtain at certain times in their Holy Sacrifice. All
of them have also retained liturgical orientation, that is, the
priest’s facing the altar (east), not the people.
The non-Catholic Christians of the East have retained these beautiful
customs, and so many others. Why offend them by jettisoning our
common tradition?
This same writer who made the above objection regarding the the altar
rail also took exception to those who ignored the sacred action
taking place on the altar while they focused on their private
devotions. (The lay people didn’t know what was going on. They
prayed their Rosaries….) That objection struck me as a serious
contradiction. If what happens on the altar – inside the sanctuary –
is not the holiest thing going on in the Church, what’s wrong with
focusing on one’s private devotions? But if what is going on in the
sanctuary is – as the word sanctuary implies – more holy than what
is outside, then the sanctuary should be regarded as holier than the
rest of the Church. The liberal polemicist can’t have it both ways.
There are more distant roots to these traditions than even the Roman
and Byzantine liturgy. If we go back to the Old Testament to consider
the Temple of Solomon, we see that there is the "Holy Place" where
only the priests could go, and the "Holy of Holies" where only the
High Priest could go, and only on Yom Kippur. The Temple was built
in such a way that concentric rings separated one "more holy" region
from the one before it, the outermost being the court of the gentiles,
where anyone could go. In short, the Temple was holy, but the temple
itself had "more holy" and "less holy" places. This was a powerful
architectural catechesis that taught the people something of the
mystery of God’s holiness in relation to the created universe.
St. Paul would use the formation that the Jews had in this sacred
cosmology as the basis of his Epistle to the Hebrews, explaining how
Christ fulfilled all these things.
Amid their diabolical errors, even the pagans of Rome preserved
similar notions concerning holy places. This has even come into
our language. The space outside the temple was literally "profane"
(pro-fanum – "before the temple"). Profane originally meant "secular,"
or "non-sacred." So, for instance, J.S. Bach wrote "sacred" and
"profane" music.
The liberal argument against tradition is that, after the changes,
we learned that the sacred is to enter into the profane and make it
holy. This sounds good, but the evidence suggests that the distinction
between the two has been lost. What was sacred – the sanctuary –
has been profaned with all manner of silliness, banality, scandal,
and sacrilege, with dancing girls to boot. Tearing out partitions has
produced a leveling along the lines of the least common denominator,
not the highest.
Yes, we must strive to sanctify all aspects of life – absolutely! But
to do that – to make everything and everyone holy – we have to separate
ourselves from the world, approach the divine Mysteries with fear and
trembling, receive Them in faith, love, and gratitude, and carry the
precious treasure of grace wherever we go. Ignorant peasants in the
Middle Ages knew this implicitly; it was their world. Just as the Jews
of the Old Law learned their religious cosmology from the Temple’s
architecture, so the Faithful of the New Law learned the sacred order
in the universe from their churches. The medieval cathedral wasn’t only
beautiful, it was also an elaborate catechesis in stone and glass. This
is to touch upon what we commonly call the "sense of the sacred."
It is this sense, this awe in the divine presence, that the Orthodox
have retained in their worship. If we hope and pray for their reunion
with Rome, we cannot unreasonably hope for them to embrace our own
jettisoning of sacred tradition. Like Saint Josaphat of Polotsk (who
shed his blood for the cause of unity), Blessed Clement Sheptytsky,
Blessed Gomidas Keumurjian, Venerable Mekhitar of Sivas and so many
other saints of the Christian Orient, they ought to retain their
beautiful, Catholic Eastern traditions, which are safeguards, not
only of liturgical sanity, but also of doctrinal orthodoxy.
For our part we ought to retain our beautiful and Catholic Western
traditions, which also safeguard the faith. We can and must respect
each other’s authentic traditions, which provide a platform for
any purposeful "dialogue" that transcends the merely superficial
and political.
I by no means want to relegate the causes of division to secondary
importance. We must hold our ground on such doctrinal questions as
the papacy, the Filioque, and other areas of disagreement. That said,
we cannot reasonably expect to get a hearing from the Orthodox if we
appear to have cast off our own traditions. In short, if the priest who
comes to the table to discuss theology with the Orthodox is "smilin’
Father Bob," who just "did liturgy" with guitars, lay Eucharistic
ministers, and a troupe of minstrels dancing around the altar, the
talks will probably, as they say, break down.
According to Il Giornale, the patriarch opined that the pope’s decision
to revive the traditional Mass might contribute to establishing
closer links with the Orthodox Churches. Will the patriarch himself
ever embrace Roman unity? Let us pray to Our Lady of Fatima for
him. She promised that Russia would convert. And let us beseech the
divine clemency for all Russia: "Savior of the world, save Russia"
(An indulgence of 300 days, S.P. Ap., Nov. 24, 1924).
Meanwhile, the Russians themselves will take us a bit more seriously
as we pray according to our revived traditions.
"Send forth thy light and thy truth: they have conducted me,
and brought me unto thy holy hill, and into thy tabernacles. And
I will go in to the altar of God: to God who giveth joy to my
youth." (Ps. 42:3-4, used in the prayers at the foot of the altar.)