Had you told me ten years ago that I would be serving a Tridentine Mass on the campus of Franciscan University of Steubenville the day before the Pope who “reopened” the Missal of 1962 stepped down from the papacy, I would have given you a very strange look indeed. First for suggesting that I, a life-long traditionalist, would be that involved with Franciscan University of Steubenville; and second, for suggesting that the Tridentine Mass would be so readily available and acceptable that it would be offered at Franciscan.

But that is what will happen. For the past three and half years I have been the head master of ceremonies and chief trainer of servers for the Extraordinary Form Mass on campus. During that time I have assisted one of the younger friars to learn the “Old Mass.”

I will never forget Father’s face the first time he sat in choir at a Missa Cantata on campus back in 2009. When we returned to the sacristy after the recessional I thanked him for coming, but his face displayed a combination of wonder, joy, and astonishment. He said, “No, thank you.”

And thus it began. He took lessons from a local diocesan priest, augmented eventually by myself serving for him at a private Mass once weekly, stopping him occasionally with a quiet, “Father, don’t forget…” and him thanking me, correcting the error, and the Mass continuing on.

The corrections lessened over time, to the point now where I almost don’t have to pay extra special attention any longer and can more fully enter into the prayer of this ancient liturgy.

As a matter of the regular semester campus Mass schedule, Father offers one public Extraordinary Form Mass per week on campus: a Low Mass on Saturday most weekends, but a Missa Cantata one Sunday per month.

Tomorrow morning will be another private Low Mass, just Father and me, praying this truly, deeply beautiful liturgy for the salvation of the whole world, in the presence of all the saints and angels, and “in the site of His divine majesty.” I will offer my prayer for the intentions of Pope Benedict XVI, and in thanksgiving for his papacy.

This is only possible because of the great wisdom of Benedict. His motu proprio Summorum Pontificum—which is not a “universal indult,” but includes the recognition that the the Missal of Blessed John XXIII was never suppressed nor abrogated, thus no “indult” was ever needed or appropriate—opened up a real dialogue at the grassroots level (okay, sometimes it’s still askance looks or shouting matches, but that will take time and charitable hearts to overcome) and truly enabled the new to reconnect with that which had served so well for so long. It reestablished the tradition of the organic development of liturgy, allowing the good to stay and the dross of the bad burn away, that dominated for millennia but was greatly hindered in 1969 and the liturgical pogroms of the 1970s.

Because of Summorum Pontificum I will be able to drive onto the campus of one of the most liturgically eclectic and historically charismatic Catholic institutions in the country and take part in the great handing on what I have been given by those who taught to me that which they had been given.

Thank you, Holy Father, from the bottom of my heart, and may God richly bless your retirement.

The elevation of the Precious Blood during the first ever Solemn High Mass in Christ the King Chapel at Franciscan University of Steubenville, just this past October 28. My head and back can be seen to the right of the deacon, who is kneeling to Father’s right, holding the chasuble.

Photo by Catholic Church (England and Wales)

Most folks have pointed to the section near the end where Benedict, in discussing Vatican II, contrasts the “Council of the Fathers” with the “Council of the media.” It is well-timed since the Pope describes how the media distorted the true intentions of the Council for its own ends, and we can point to numerous media reports in the past few days where stories of Pope Benedict’s renunciation have themselves contained distortions. Quoting Benedict:

[T]he Council of journalists did not, naturally, take place within the world of faith but within the categories of the media of today, that is outside of the faith, with different hermeneutics. It was a hermeneutic of politics. The media saw the Council as a political struggle, a struggle for power between different currents within the Church. It was obvious that the media would take the side of whatever faction best suited their world.

What follows, though, is a wonderful discussion of the impact this had on people’s perception of the liturgy (emphasis added):

There were those who sought a decentralization of the Church, power for the bishops and then, through the Word for the “people of God”, the power of the people, the laity. There was this triple issue: the power of the Pope, then transferred to the power of the bishops and then the power of all … popular sovereignty. Naturally they saw this as the part to be approved, to promulgate, to help. This was the case for the liturgy: there was no interest in the liturgy as an act of faith, but as a something to be made understandable, similar to a community activity, something profane. And we know that there was a trend, which was also historically based, that said: “Sacredness is a pagan thing, possibly even from the Old Testament. In the New Testament the only important thing is that Christ died outside: that is, outside the gates, that is, in the secular world”. Sacredness ended up as profanity even in worship: worship is not worship but an act that brings people together, communal participation and thus participation as activity. And these translations, trivializing the idea of ​​the Council, were virulent in the practice of implementing the liturgical reform, born in a vision of the Council outside of its own key vision of faith. And it was so, also in the matter of Scripture: Scripture is a book, historical, to treat historically and nothing else, and so on.

Perhaps this is on my mind because I recently had the opportunity to attend Mass while out of town. How commonplace are parishes where the aim of the liturgy seems to be participation and feel-good-ism! In hindsight, the main reason why I drifted off into twice-a-year Mass attendance is precisely because of what Pope Benedict describes. Being somewhat introverted, church-as-community-activity did (and does) not appeal to me. It always gave me the impression of lowering the bar.

I praise God that my family is able to attend a (Cathedral) parish where the liturgy is celebrated more in line with the “Council of the Fathers,” as “an act of faith.” If you had to ask this non-theologian, non-philosopher, only-recently-serious Catholic what Pope Benedict will be most remembered for, I would hope it would be his attempt to draw the Church back to the beauty and timelessness of the authentic liturgy. Not because he’s stuck in the past, but because he cares about our future. He wants us all to be encouraged and strengthened on our journey towards the Father, and he knows how crucial the liturgy is in attaining that goal.

Maribeth Lynch, 51, a publisher from the Milwaukee suburb of Elm Grove, said she was “distraught” over the changes and would refuse to “learn the damn prayers.”

“It’s ridiculous. I’ve been a Catholic for 50 years, and why would they make such stupid changes? They’re word changes. They’re semantics,” she said. The priest “spent 40 minutes today on the changes instead of on the important stuff, like changing water into wine.”

How shocking to discover that a resident of a liberal Milwaukee environ who proudly proclaims her five decades of Catholic membership, drops the word d*mn casually, and complains about priestly attention to important details … also clearly failed Sunday school.

That is, unless priests suddenly have a new miraculous talent and no one updated me.

I think this little story is a nice reminder that the false “spirit” of Vatican II is on its way out. May it be replaced with a renewed spirit that, ya know, pays attention to the “important stuff” … like what is actually happening on the altar.

Hotels and bars made out of ice have been common for a while — now a church is the latest project to get the cold treatment. In the Bavarian Forest, one congregation wants to build a place of worship out of 1,400 cubic meters of snow, just as their ancestors did 100 years ago.

… Stiefvater wants the snow church to serve as a reminder of an extraordinary event in local history. At the beginning of the 20th century, a trip to Sunday mass for people living in the remote mountain village of Mitterfirmiansreut meant an arduous 90-minute walk to the neighboring town of Mauth. After their pleas for a church of their own fell on deaf ears, the villagers decided to mount an unusual protest during the Christmas season of 1911: They built their own church out of snow. [Der Spiegel]

The visuals are impressive:

The original 1911 Snow Church:

The article mentions the original church was a place for “Mass” but the writer out of ignorance may not know that protestants do not refer to their services as Masses.

Can anyone help me find out if this is actual going to be a Catholic Church? I tend to doubt that.

UPDATE – it appears this snow church could well be Catholic. Plus, there’s a snow church in Japan, too!

Word for Word [Edge] from Life Teen on Vimeo.

Found at Msgr. Charles Pope’s blog for the Archdiocese of DC (ph/t: The Anchoress).

There will be resistance to the new translation in places, especially because some liberal catholics are attempting to foment this hesitancy to accept the new translation as an excuse to rally catholics in the pew against their bishops (Bryan Cones at U.S. Catholic, for example). How petty.

My simple take: this new translation is better than the one we have now. Not perfect, but it’s moving in the right direction. We should welcome it with open arms, and to that end, sharing this video (especially with the youth group at your parish) may be a good way to jump start the conversation.

You can read the new translation here on the US Bishops website, along with lots of other helpful materials.

Let me suggest one specific, concrete way that Catholicism in America can begin to mount a campaign of resistance to the flattening-out of our common life by the ambient culture: Restore a distinctive sense of time to Catholic life, and do that by reforming the reform of the liturgical calendar.”

Many Catholics are already passionate about reclaiming the liturgy, and I believe this worthy goal is best achieved within the context of also reclaiming liturgical time throughout the year. Weigel writes:

As things now stand, the Church has bent its sense of liturgical time to the imperial demands of that modern cultural artifact, the weekend. The Holy See has permitted local churches to lower the bar of liturgical expectation by transferring solemnities like Epiphany and Corpus Christi to Sundays, and the bishops of the United States have gone a step farther by lifting the obligation to attend Mass on certain holy days if those days fall on a Saturday or a Monday: thus, just a few weeks ago, the Solemnity of All Saints dropped off a lot of Catholic radar screens because it fell on a Monday, and was thus not a holy day of obligation.

These are very bad ideas, it seems to me. If the time we spend worshipping God through Christ in the power of the Spirit is, in truth, an experience of enriched time (because it anticipates the time-beyond-time,) then we should not look for ways to cut temporal corners by shifting to Sunday long-established feasts whose celebration during the week once gave a unique rhythm to Catholic life. So let’s put Epiphany back where it belongs, on January 6, and let’s get the Solemnity of the Body and Body of Christ, Corpus Christi, back where it belongs, which is during the week.

I completely agree with this. It is not too much to require Catholics to occasionally go to Mass two days in a row. Weigel says that instead of removing holy days of obligation from the calendar, we should be adding them back: Epiphany, Corpus Christi (which promotes Eucharistic devotion and belief), the Annunciation (“which could become an annual celebration of the inalienable right to life from conception until natural death”). Two more holy days could be established:

And if the late John Paul II was right in lifting up Our Lady of Guadalupe as a special Marian gift to the Church in the Americas, then perhaps we should consider making December 12 a holy day of obligation, focused on the New Evangelization. I would also be tempted to add to an expanded list of obligatory holy days the October 19 feast of the North American Martyrs, as a reminder of just how challenging the proclamation and defense of the faith can be.

Weigel is also counseling us to be sensible about reintroducing the obligation to attend Mass on these traditional holy days:

As for the practical problems of distance involved in some rural areas, these can be easily addressed by the local bishop dispensing from holy days of obligation when he sees fit. Nonetheless, the Church as a whole ought to make a countercultural statement by the reforming the way it orders the rhythms of its life.

I would add, to respond to a question that is sure to arise, that Catholics are already permitted to miss Mass if it is simply impractical for them to do so. Holy days of obligation during the week would therefore operate according to the same principles that already govern the Sunday obligation to attend Mass.

I have a personal story to contribute. This November 1st (18 days ago) the solemnity of All Saints, which is ordinarily a holy day of obligation, fell on a Monday. According to ecclesiastical decree in the US, whenever this feast falls on a Monday (or Saturday) Catholics are no longer obliged to attend Mass.

Well, I still went to Mass. I’m blessed to work within easy walking distance of a daily Noon Mass and so I attended during my lunch hour. It was packed, far more than a typical weekday Mass. Many other local Catholics had obviously decided they still wanted to attend Mass on this day, even though they probably do not make a habit of attending Mass daily. It was wonderful and uplifting to witness so many other Catholics forming their priorities this way. I departed and returned to my job thankful for the unique privilege Catholics enjoy in being able to worship and receive our Lord in the Eucharist.

Restoring liturgical time, and beginning to do so by reclaiming our traditional holy days of obligation, and even adding a few more, is a way to encourage more Catholics to share in this grace-filled experience.

I think there is everything good about such a proposal.

Looks like AmP readers are strong supporters of the new translation of the Roman Missal into English, based on the results of last week’s poll.

A majority (53%) are strong supporters, 37% are open to it, 5% want to learn more and about 4% are against it.

Learn more about the new translation here on the USCCB website and by reading Louie Verrecchio’s series of articles on the CNA website explaining it in greater detail.