In his Papal Bull Quo Primum from 1570, St Pope Pius V declared that by “this present Constitution, which will be valid henceforth, now, and forever, We order and enjoin that nothing must be added to Our recently published Missal, nothing omitted from it, nor anything whatsoever be changed within it.” In 1969, a new Missal was promulgated by St Pope Paul VI. The act led many to believe that the Pope had forbidden the preceding Missal, which Pope Benedict XVI in turn declared was not the case in Summorum Pontificum (2007), saying: “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.” In the most recent development in the drama, Pope Francis has made changes to this statement in the motu proprio Traditionis Custodes, restricting the use of the Traditional Latin Mass.
The story is well-rehearsed by now. But the conflict is perpetuated by resentment on both sides of the liturgical divide. A few days ago a prominent Catholic blogger retweeted an image of Pope Francis, quoting the Pontiff saying “traditionalists have dead faith”, stoking further resentment amongst those who feel increasingly marginalised by the current Pope. Another interpretation is plausible. Perhaps the Pope spoke not about tradition in general but what Pius XII had condemned as “false antiquarianism”. This heresy, as Pius XII called it, emerges when ancient practices are totemised despite recent developments guided by the highest Church authorities. In this vein, Pius XII wrote in Mediator Dei (1947): “Just as obviously unwise and mistaken is the zeal of one who in matters liturgical would go back to the rites and usage of antiquity, discarding the new patterns introduced by disposition of divine Providence to meet the changes of circumstances and situation.”
Don’t get me wrong. I prefer attending the Traditional Latin Mass. And I don’t think that Pius XII’s statement precludes the celebration of what is not an antiquarian reversion, but the Mass of Ages. However, I lament the divisive attitude that often accompanies its attendance. The German philosopher, Martin Heidegger, wrote that the most “thought-provoking thing in our thought-provoking time is that we are still not thinking”. When we believe that our most beloved traditions are being attacked, emotions often take over and thought is abandoned. Heidegger himself was the son of a sexton and so his own thought might not have been entirely uninspired by liturgical disputations. Moreover, Heidegger is often seen as a culprit, having laid the ground for later “hermeneutics,” such as the “hermeneutics of continuity” of which Pope Benedict XVI spoke, reconciling the old and new forms of the Roman Rite. This hermeneutic is a circle still waiting to be closed.
The past will always be alluring because it is known and the future daunting because it is undisclosed. We cannot look back to a purer age, however, not least because such purity as we imagine may never have existed. Don’t take my word for it, listen to Father Faber. Delivering a series of lectures on the spirit and genius of St Philip Neri, Faber stated: “to enthrone a past age in our affections above the one which God has given us in His Church is, implicitly at least, to adopt the formula of heresy and schism.” One might say that he is exaggerating, or that he lived in the 19th century and, hence, a more innocent time than our own. Yet, the Church has always been rampant with corruption, diabolical ambition, and irreverent members. It was after all in the 19th century that both Chesterton and Belloc claimed that an organisation characterised by such mismanagement yet still in existence must be divine. In case it wasn’t clear, Faber goes on to say: “a cheerful, reverent, submissive, admiring loyalty to the present epoch of the Church, and to the Rome of today – this is the health, and sinew, and the heat of the real Catholic life.” God has placed us in this time for a reason, no other will do for us.
This is not to say that one Pope teaches truth, which must then be reinterpreted and adhered to in light of a later Pope’s pronouncement, with both statements later harmonised in a “hermeneutic”. There are dogmas which have to be adhered to, and there are practices or customs that the Church hierarchy can change. This happens whether we like it or not. We can ask questions, and we ought to challenge the hierarchy at times, but we also owe them filial submission. We must pray for the Pope, and, if we believe he is wrong in his decisions, unite to tell him so. This does not mean that our times are the worst. Most times will, all things considered, be found equally mediocre. What we do know for certain is that this is the era we are meant to live in and that we are united by one standard: the Faith. Not by the interpretative lens of any one Pope or faction.