In the year of our Lord, 2007, Pope Benedict XVI authored the highly influential Motu Proprio, Summorum Pontificum. The document revived and rejuvenated the celebration of the traditional Roman Rite, recognizing its use as the right of every Latin priest. The Tridentine Mass was identified as being fully linked to the Roman Rite; with Summorum Pontificum, its indispensability was reaffirmed, and its practice was re-legitimized.
The “Latin Mass” or “Old Rite,” for those unfamiliar, refers to the eucharistic liturgy, divine office, and other ceremonial practices and rites of the Western Catholic Church, coming from the early middle ages, and codified in the sixteenth century, prior to their changes in the twentieth century. These rites distinguish themselves from the expression of their post-conciliar counterparts in many ways. In essence, they are often longer and contain more readings and prayers. In practice, they are more often accompanied by Gregorian Chant, the Latin Language, incense, silence, and reverence. While these qualities are not intrinsic to the Old Rite, they are generally present in the Old and not the New.
Now, no one amongst traditional Catholics who enjoy the celebration of the Traditional Roman Rite denounces the Emeritus Pope’s Motu Proprio. On the contrary, it is highly celebrated and cherished by the faithful. Yet although Summorum Pontificum has been the shining light for traditional Catholics, it is still worthy of criticism in one particularly nuanced way.
When articulating his view, Benedict makes the claim that the Roman Rite has two forms: an Ordinary Form and an Extraordinary Form. The Extraordinary Form consists of the Tridentine Mass using the Missale Romanum up until that of 1962, as well as the traditional Breviarium Romanum, and the Ordinary Form is that of the Mass of Paul VI and the Missal of 1969 – following the reforms of the Consilium shortly after the Second Vatican Council – as well as the reformed “Liturgy of the Hours.”
The flaw of Benedict’s understanding of Roman worship is that of implementing two forms of one rite into practice. To give testament to this, I will give an anecdote. As someone who was not raised Catholic, I never grew up with any particular liturgy. Only about a month after my conversion, a friend invited me to join him at the Latin Mass. I had heard of it before but did not know much about it beyond it being in Latin and including the Priest facing Ad Orientem. Upon attending for several months, I fell in love. Dare I say as intimately as a man loves his wife, I was head over heels for the Traditional Liturgy. For effectively a year I attended exclusively the Latin Mass. I always sought it out even if it was harder to reach or required more time for travel. I studied the texts and the rubrics extensively, falling in love with every prayer especially in its fitting place in the Lingua Sacra. I admired the liturgical cycle of readings, orations, and antiphons, the beauty of traditional vestments, and the fittingness of the ceremony in which we entered. I began an autodidact of Gregorian Chant, and sang the great corpus of music weekly at Mass, and daily in my free time. I even closely analyzed and spectated every movement of the priest at the altar. Needless to say, I was enthralled by the ravishing beauty of Traditional Catholic worship.
The result of this was something quite interesting and likely rare in the lives of Catholics. Now, upon attending the Novus Ordo, I am utterly lost and feel out of place. I do not know the prayers or responses in English, I am confused by when to sit, stand and kneel, and I feel unable to pray and am distracted by our sacred mysteries being strung together by an unending stream of vernacular words.
In reality and in the full context of the history of the Roman Rite, The Extraordinary Form, or what could be called the Liturgy of St. Gregory the Great, is not extraordinary at all. In the setting of Catholic worship, the Traditional Mass is ordinary. For nearly a millennia it was the only mass celebrated in all of the Western Church. It was the Mass attended and celebrated by all of the great priests, religious, laity, doctors, and saints of the church up until the 1960s. It was the ceremony that followed the ringing of bells in every church on every single Sunday for generations and generations. In all other words, it was ordinary. Contrarily, the Novus Ordo and the other ceremonies of the new rite are extraordinary. They are extraordinary in their novelty, their inauthenticity to the practice of Christian worship, and their un-fittingness to the sacredness of the church’s divine mysteries. The Old Rite is extraordinary, only when compared to the new. Only when compared to stripped-down rubrics, and queer practical implementations by parish priests can the Traditional Rite be seen as extraordinary.
The point that I hope to be made evident is that you cannot have two versions of one rite and expect them to be equally known and used. What’s more, is that almost all Catholics end up only attending one form of the rite; either they never attended the Latin Mass and just take the Novus Ordo to be the standard, or they, like me, love the Traditional Latin Mass and consistently attend that. In fact, in the majority of cases of the Catholics who understand and attend both, they often only attend the New Mass out of necessity, and if given the choice or opportunity, would consistently attend the Old Rite.
Pope Francis, in 2021, authored the now infamous Motu Proprio, Traditionis Custodes, effectively reversing Summorum Pontificum and giving the right to say the Latin Mass, at the diocesan level, to the jurisdiction of the Episcopacy. Francis and many others who favor the New Rite to the old, make the argument that having two forms of the rite causes disunity. In the document, he claims that he made his decision, “[i]n order to promote the concord and unity of the Church” (Traditionis Custodes: Paragraph II), and writes that the New Mass is the “unique expression of the lex orandi of the Roman Rite” (Traditionis Custodes: Article I).
In one sense I would agree with the Holy Father: the Church’s unity, in large part, most certainly rests on the cohesiveness of her liturgical practices. However, I would argue that in order to achieve this end, the Latin Mass, as having evolved and developed for centuries in the Roman Church, codified by Pope Pius V following the council of Trent, and celebrated by all the priests, bishops, and popes for a thousand years, must be maintained. Its use ought to be practiced as the genuine Lex Orandi of the Latin Rite, and placed solely as the authentic Usus Antiquior of the Western Catholic Church.
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” I admired the liturgical cycle of readings, orations, and antiphons, the beauty of traditional vestments, and the fittingness of the ceremony in which we entered. I began an autodidact of Gregorian Chant, and sang the great corpus of music weekly at Mass, and daily in my free time. I even closely analyzed and spectated every movement of the priest at the altar.”
The new Catholic, enthralled by mystagogia, often fails to deepen their knowledge of the faith in a fitting and appropriate way. The fact is that these things are all present in either form of the Mass. The Graduale Romanum didn’t go anywhere, and Solesmnes revised it only slightly for the new rite. A liturgical cycle remains – so enriched over the meagre one year cycle of the extraordinary form, that all the great churches of the west adapted it (their Revised Common Lectionary,)
And the revised rite is the first to gain conciliar-grade blessing of Gregorian chant – Tra Le Solicitudini is only a papal encyclical.
That ordinary form Masses are celebrated poorly fairly often – we all know this. But that’s the fault of pastors unwilling to fund their choirs or follow the council. It isn’t a defect in the rite.