This article was first published
in The Catholic Herald
Looking at Latin
A Former Evangelical Attends
the Latin Mass
By Dwight Longenecker
I’ve
always wanted to top Scott Hahn’s bad pun, Rome
Sweet Home and title my conversion story, Done
Roman. For the former Protestant nothing
is more Roman than the Latin Mass, so it
was with considerable curiosity that I decided
to attend the Latin Mass for the first time
since becoming a Catholic five years ago.
I
was looking forward to it. I like old churches
and our diocesan Latin Mass Society had arranged
this Mass to be said at a beautiful little
medieval church we lease from the Anglicans.
I was never a paid up, official thirty-nine
button Anglo-Catholic, but as a middle of
the road Anglican priest I appreciated decent
liturgy, good music and a certain amount
of smells and bells. So it was with a mixture
of both anticipation and reserve that I set
off for the service with a Latin Mass aficionado
from our parish.
I
was armed with a missal which had an English
translation facing the Latin text. At the
Church door we were given a sheet with the
translations of the propers. I took my seat,
looked around, said my prayers and prepared
for Mass. Before long the bells tinkled and
the little choir began a Latin introit as
a young priest processed in with suitably
solemn servers. As a former clergyman it
wasn’t hard to follow the service, but I
wondered how someone less knowledgeable would
have known which bits to skip and where to
find the readings which weren’t in the book.
Compared to the simple open-ness of the Novus
Ordo it seemed rather arcane.
I
was prepared for the priest to stand at the
altar with his back to us. I was also prepared
for some of the mass to be inaudible; but
I was genuinely astounded when he chanted
the Scripture readings in Latin in an almost
inaudible voice as well.. I realise we were
meant to follow in our missals, but would
not our following have been easier if we
could actually hear what was being said?
Perhaps a liturgical expert will one day
explain how singing the Scriptures softly
in a foreign language aids communication
of the Word of God to the People of God.
The
Anglo Catholics are sometimes blamed for
being more Catholic than the Catholics. The
young priest who stepped up into the pulpit
to deliver the homily was wearing a wonderfully
embroidered maniple and fiddle-backed chasuble.
With his prim manners, tiny spectacles, and
biretta, this Catholic looked more Anglo
Catholic than the Anglo Catholics.
He
then spoke in a stained-glass voice which
was so stentorian that it would make the
most pompous Archdeacon arch with envy. He
began by disagreeing with the new Archbishop
of Westminster, saying that these days were
not a time for Joy and Hope, but it was indeed
a time of doom and gloom for the church.
The rest of the homily was an unpleasant
invective against sin and decadence in which
sinners were people who ‘live their lives
like base animals of the field.’
I’m
afraid it was downhill from there on. I followed
along with the Mass, and tried to be open
minded, but I couldn’t understand the point
of it all. If the Latin is so majestic, timeless
and wonderful, why is half the mass intentionally
inaudible? If the sacred gestures of the
priest are so significant and beautiful why
are they performed up in the chancel with
his back turned so we can’t see them? Perhaps
I’m not only missing the point but revealing
my appalling ignorance by asking obvious
questions; but I couldn’t help coming away
feeling that if Vatican II had never happened,
I, for one, would never have come close to
entering the Catholic Church.
The
supporters of the Latin Mass are fond of
telling us how Mass numbers have fallen since
the introduction of the Novus Ordo; but two
things happening at the same time do not
necessarily imply a causal relationship.
You might as well say that Mass numbers have
dropped ever since Elvis died. Certainly
Its true that Mass attendance has dropped
off since the sixties, but it may well have
dropped even more if the Latin Mass had been
retained.
The
Sunday before I led an away day for a parish
home group. The group was made up of about
ten young couples and their families. Many
of the young people were converts to the
Catholic faith. A number had been greatly
helped by the Alpha course. Our closing Mass
was at the other end of the liturgical extreme
to the Latin Mass. We sang choruses, the
older children did a little drama to help
illuminate the readings. The little ones
took a full part in the offertory procession.
There was a fair bit of hugging and hand
raising. It was not my preferred type of
worship, I like the Novus Ordo celebrated
with simple solemnity and good hymns; but
if the only alternative is doom, gloom and
Latin, give me guitars and hugs any day.
Traditionalists
would probably say, ‘You can take the boy
out of Protestantism, but you can’t take
Protestantism out of the boy.’ But the fact
of the matter is that Vatican II has happened,
Protestants are coming into a Catholic church
that has been transformed. I would never
want to prohibit the Latin Mass. I respect
its beauty and the venerable legacy it represents,
but I am looking for a renewed Church—a Church
which offers the treasures of the past in
a positive way to our modern world. That’s
why I’m delighted that this year the Pope
is not only beatifying the arch-enemy of
modernism, Pius IX, but also the master of
open-ness, John XXIII.
