'Nuff said....he says that which those of us who have been students of Monsignor Richard Schuler have been saying since the 1970s (myself, since 1994).....
Yep. This is good stuff!
Father Klaus Gamber, who is recently deceased, has written for many years about the liturgical reforms that followed on the II Vatican Council. <The Reform of the Roman Liturgy> (available from Foundation for Catholic Reform, 1331 Red Cedar Circle, Fort Collins, Colorado 80524, $23) has recently been translated from German into French and English, and has provoked considerable comment in the European press. One of the points considered by Father Gamber is the position of the altar with reference to the congregation. One of the most evident reforms following the council is the practice of having the priest face toward the congregation. Much of the propaganda that brought about the priests' change in position alleged that it was only a return to a custom of the early Church. History and archeology were both cited (but without true facts) as evidence in the claims. Without much study or questioning, priests and parishes across the country accepted the stories and tore out their altars, replacing them with tables of wood and blocks of stone that allowed the priest to face toward the congregation. The designs of the original architects, the over-all lines and focus of the church were set aside and thrown out. In most cases the artistic results were bad, and at best the new arrangement looked like a remodelled dress or suit. The destruction of the church and sanctuary was unfortunate and often costly. In some parts of the country, the damage done to the churches by the altar-bashing reformers was greater than what the Vandals did to Spain or North Africa. But the greater evil was the damage done to the liturgical presence and actions of the priest. He was told to make eye-contact with the people, to direct his words to them, to become the "presider" at the community assembly, the "facilitator" of the active participation of the congregation. The notion of the Mass as sacrifice was discouraged, while the idea of a common meal was promoted. The altar became the table, much like in the days of Archbishop Cranmer in England. Among those asked to comment on Father Gamber's book was Cardinal Ratzinger, who was interviewed in the Italian journal, <Il Sabato> (April 24, 1993). He explained that there is no historical data, either in writing or from archeology, that establishes the position of the altar in the early centuries as having been turned toward the people. To look at the people was not the question in the early Church, but looking toward the east where Christ would appear in His second coming, the parousia, was most important. Thus church buildings and the altars were "oriented" (faced to the east) so that the priest especially would see Him on His arrival. If because of the contour of the land or some other obstacle, the church could not be so located, then the priest, always looking toward the east, would have to stand behind the altar and face toward the people. That he was looking at the congregation was only accidental to the eastward position he took. Saint Peter's Basilica in Rome is a good example of this, because the church could not have the usual west entrance because of the Vatican Hill. The cardinal explains further that the almost universal change to altars facing toward the people is not a decree of the II Vatican Council. Nor was it impossible before the council to offer Mass toward the people. A tradition of fifteen centuries of priests' standing at the head of their congregations was swept away in a few years. That tradition admitted of exceptions. I, myself, probably had a record of celebrating Mass in Latin, facing the people, more than any other priest in the country before the council. The church where I had weekend duty had such an altar in the crypt, and I offered Mass twice each Sunday for nearly ten years, all prior to 1963. The cardinal was asked if the Church would revert to the ancient tradition practiced before the council. He replied that there would not be a change "at this time:" He said that the people are far too confused now by so many changes so quickly introduced. But he did not say that it would not happen at a future date. Surely, a great boost in restoring reverence to the celebration of the Mass would be given by a return. Father Jungmann, whose work on the history of the liturgy (<Missarum solemnia>) was in large part responsible for the introduction of the change, had second thoughts about the value of the change. The interesting aspect of the discussion brought about by Father Gamber's book is that little by little the propaganda and false assertions invoked to bring about the liturgical reforms following the council are now being exposed and found to be without truth or basis, historical, archeological or liturgical. The errors swallowed by the clergy and laity alike in the sixties included such lies as the elimination of Latin, the forbidding of choirs, tearing out of communion rails, statues, tabernacles, and vestments-all in the name of the council or perhaps the "spirit of the council:" Thank God the truth is beginning to re-appear.
I would also like to emphasize strongly what I had occasion to say concerning the Council a few months after my election as Successor of Peter: “if we interpret and implement it guided by a right hermeneutic, it can be and can become increasingly powerful for the ever necessary renewal of the Church.” (PF 5)This then begs the question and I think that it is a proper question to ask, To what end should we, the faithful, expect the liturgical, ecclesiological, and "ecumenical" (read: religious tolerance) life of the Church to be renewed?
Of its very nature Latin is most suitable for promoting every form of culture among peoples. It gives rise to no jealousies. It does not favor any one nation, but presents itself with equal impartiality to all and is equally acceptable to all.
Preservation of Latin by the Holy See For these reasons the Apostolic See has always been at pains to preserve Latin, deeming it worthy of being used in the exercise of her teaching authority “as the splendid vesture of her heavenly doctrine and sacred laws.
She further requires her sacred ministers to use it, for by so doing they are the better able, wherever they may be, to acquaint themselves with the mind of the Holy See on any matter, and communicate the more easily with Rome and with one another. Thus the “knowledge and use of this language,” so intimately bound up with the Church’s life, “is important not so much on cultural or literary grounds, as for religious reasons.
These are the words of Our Predecessor Pius XI, who conducted a scientific inquiry into this whole subject, and indicated three qualities of the Latin language which harmonize to a remarkable degree with the Church’s nature. “For the Church, precisely because it embraces all nations and is destined to endure to the end of time … of its very nature requires a language which is universal, immutable, and non-vernacular.” Universal Since “every Church must assemble round the Roman Church,” and since the Supreme Pontiffs have “true episcopal power, ordinary and immediate, over each and every Church and each and every Pastor, as well as over the faithful” of every rite and language, it seems particularly desirable that the instrument of mutual communication be uniform and universal, especially between the Apostolic See and the Churches which use the same Latin rite.
When, therefore, the Roman Pontiffs wish to instruct the Catholic world, or when the Congregations of the Roman Curia handle matters or draw up decrees which concern the whole body of the faithful, they invariably make use of Latin, for this is a maternal voice acceptable to countless nations.
Furthermore, the Church’s language must be not only universal but also immutable. Modern languages are liable to change, and no single one of them is superior to the others in authority. Thus if the truths of the Catholic Church were entrusted to an unspecified number of them, the meaning of these truths, varied as they are, would not be manifested to everyone with sufficient clarity and precision. There would, moreover, be no language which could serve as a common and constant norm by which to gauge the exact meaning of other renderings. But Latin is indeed such a language. It is set and unchanging. it has long since ceased to be affected by those alterations in the meaning of words which are the normal result of daily, popular use. Certain Latin words, it is true, acquired new meanings as Christian teaching developed and needed to be explained and defended, but these new meanings have long since become accepted and firmly established. Non-vernacular Finally, the Catholic Church has a dignity far surpassing that of every merely human society, for it was founded by Christ the Lord. It is altogether fitting, therefore, that the language it uses should be noble, majestic, and non-vernacular. In addition, the Latin language “can be called truly catholic.”
It has been consecrated through constant use by the Apostolic See, the mother and teacher of all Churches, and must be esteemed “a treasure … of incomparable worth.” It is a general passport to the proper understanding of the Christian writers of antiquity and the documents of the Church’s teaching.
It is also a most effective bond, binding the Church of today with that of the past and of the future in wonderful continuity.
In the last couple of decades, Communion under both species (with the congregation able to receive the Pre-cious Blood as well as the Sacred Host) has become routine in our experience. I knew (as many of you do) that Communion under both species was first introduced, on a limited basis, after the Second Vatican Council, and that it has become much more common since. What I did not know was that the widespread American practice of offering both species at most Sunday Masses began here under an indult (special permission) given by the Vatican in 1975, which expired in 2005.
Almost no one realized that until very recently. Maybe we can be forgiven for forgetting that we were operating under a temporary indult. After thirty years, something can seem pretty permanent. But it wasn’t. The bishops of our country did apply for an extension of the 1975 in-dult, but that was denied.
So, all over the United States, we now find ourselves needing to bring our practice into conformity with current regulations (and with the rest of the world). In his comments at Chula Vista, Bishop Morlino mentioned a few instances in which Communion under both kinds is still permitted: the Chrism Mass, the Feast of Corpus Christi, for the bride and groom at a Nuptial Mass, and for those so allergic to wheat that they cannot tolerate even low-gluten hosts.
He suggested that the beginning of Advent (when the new translation of the Missal is fully implemented) would be one plausible date to make the change.
Until the approval of The New Roman Missal by Pope Paul VI on 3 April 1969, there had existed for four hundred years a substantial unity between the texts of the Proper of the Mass contained in the Graduale Romanum and those given in the Roman Missal. The Missal, in effect, reproduced the complete texts of those sung parts of the Mass that in the Graduale Romanum are fully notated.
The Missal takes the text of the Chants of the Proper of the Mass from the Graduale Romanum, and not the Graduale Romanum from the Missal. The Missal, in fact, contains the very same texts found in the Graduale, but in the Missal they are printed without the musical notation that allows them to be brought to life in song and, in a certain sense, interprets them in the context of the liturgy. The melodic vesture of the texts functions as a liturgical hermeneutic, allowing them to be sung, heard, and received in the light of the mysteries of Christ and of the Church.
Originally Mass was always sung. Not until the eighth or ninth century did the so called Low Mass or missa privata come to be celebrated at the lateral altars and private chapels of abbatial and collegiate churches. The Chants of the Proper of the Mass were not omitted at these Low Masses; they were recited by the priest alone. This fact, of itself, suggests that well before the eighth century, the Proper Chants were, in effect, considered to be constitutive elements of the Mass, deemed indispensable to the very shape of the liturgy.
What are the Propers?
Let us, then, review what the Proper Chants of the Mass are:
Were one to open the Roman Missal at the first page, finding there the Mass of the First Sunday of Advent, the very first element proper to that Mass, and to all others, is the Introit.
The Introit is composed of an antiphon; a verse taken from the psalm corresponding to the antiphon or, occasionally, from another; the Gloria Patri; and the repetition of the antiphon.
The Introit as presented in the Roman Missal appears in a somewhat truncated form, though all the essential elements -- antiphon, psalmody, and doxology -- are present. Until about the eighth century the entire psalm would have been chanted, or at least the greater part of it, with the antiphon repeated after every verse, and this until the celebrant reached the altar, at which point the cantors would intone the Gloria Patri, and after the final repetition of the antiphon, end the Introit.
The purpose of the Introit in the tradition of the Roman Rite is not didactic; it is contemplative. The Introit ushers the soul into the mystery of the day not by explaining it, but by opening the Mass with a word uttered from above. The text of the Introit signifies that, in every celebration, the initiative is divine, not human; it is a word received that quickens the Church-at-Prayer, and awakens a response within her.
Concerning the Introit, Maurice Zundel writes:
[The soul] has but to listen, her sole preparation an eager desire for light, to catch the interior music of the words, and understand that Someone is speaking to her who was waiting for her.He calls the Introit,
. . . a triumphal arch at the head of a Roman road, a porch through which we approach the Mystery, a hand outstretched to a crying child, a beloved companion in the sorrow of exile. The Liturgy is not a formula. It is One who comes to meet us.Sung examples: Ad te levavi, Introit of the First Sunday of Advent, and Resurrexi, Introit of the Mass of Easter Day.
The Gradual received its name from the Latin word gradus, meaning a step, because a cantor would sing it, standing on a step leading up to the ambo. The structure of the Gradual is an initial phrase, nearly always from the Psalter, followed by a verse entrusted to one or several cantors. The first part may be repeated.
The musical treatment of the Gradual is melismatic, that is to say, lavish, and characterized by great flights and cascades of notes that stretch and embellish the sacred text.
Maurice Zundel writes:
What really matters about words is not their strictly defined meanings which we find in the dictionary, but the imponderable aura wherein the unutterable Presence in which all things are steeped, is faintly perceptible.It is in the silent spaces which poetry and music open within us that the doctrinal formulae can be heard with their amplest resonance.It was therefore natural to invoke their aid after the reading of the Epistle. For its message must be allowed to bear fruit in our personal meditation until we make contact with the Presence with which the texts are filled. We must hear this single Word which is their true meaning and which no human word can express.The chanting of the Gradual provides this interval of silence and this time of rest in which the teaching just received can unfold in prayer, in the sweet movement of the Cantilena distilling in neums of light a divine dew.Sung example: Laetatus sum, Gradual of the Fourth Sunday of Lent.
The Alleluia, a cry of jubilation at the approach of the Bridegroom King who will arrive in the proclamation of the Holy Gospel, is a chant full of mystery, in that it quits the zone of mere concepts and words, and takes flight to soar into the ecstatic vocalisations of one seized by an ineffable mystery.
Saint John relates that the Alleluia is a heavenly hymn. It is the song of the saints in praise of God and of the Lamb. The Alleluia is universal; it is found in all the liturgies of East and West. This universal presence of the Alleluia in Christian worship attests to its great antiquity.
A verse or phrase, generally, but not always, from the Psalter, follows the Alleluia. After the verse, the Alleluia is repeated.
The sequence prolongs the jubilation of the Alleluia, by gathering up the neums that shower out of it to organize them into a syllabic melody, and by giving free reign to a poetic expression of the mystery being celebrated.
Five sequences remain in the Roman Missal: the Victimae Paschali Laudes of Easter; the Veni Sancte Spiritus of Pentecost, the Lauda Sion Salvatorem of Corpus Domini; the Stabat Mater of September 15th; and the Dies Irae of the Requiem Mass.
The Roman Missal of 1969 retains only four of these; the Dies Irae having been removed to the Liturgy of the Hours where it serves as a hymn for the last two weeks per annum.
Sung example: Veni Sancte Spiritus, Pentecost.
Whereas the Alleluia is the expression of a joy defying all expression, the Tract is characteristic of a liturgy marked by godly sorrow and compunction. It is found in the Mass, notably, from Septuagesima until Easter.
Originally the Tract was sung by the deacon from the ambo, in the manner of a lesson. It was rendered from beginning to end without the interjection of a refrain by the choir; it is from this mode of execution that its name appears to be derived.
The Tract prepares the congregation for the hearing of the Gospel, not by inviting it to stand on tip-toe in joy, as it were, at the arrival of the Bridegroom, but by inviting to a profound recollection. The Tract, more than any other Chant of the Proper of the Mass, illustrates that the Roman Rite is a school of audientes, a school forming listeners to the Word.
The substitution in Lent of an acclamation addressed to Christ for the Alleluia -- a way of expressing the Alleluia without saying the word -- impoverishes the Roman Rite which, in the usus antiquior demonstrates that one can prepare for the hearing of the Holy Gospel in the silence of a godly sorrow and compunction, as well as in jubilation.
Sung example: Qui habitat, First Sunday of Lent.
The Offertory Antiphon, already at the time of Saint Augustine, was sung to accompany the offering of bread and wine by the faithful and clergy. Pope Saint Gregory the Great gave to the chant at the Offertory a form not unlike that of the Introit: an antiphon and several verses from the Psalter. The antiphon was repeated before each verse; the singing lasted until the priest signaled to the cantors that they should stop, after which he would turn to the faithful for the Orate Fratres.
Even after the Offertory procession, as such, fell into disuse, the Offertory Antiphon continued to be sung, shorn of its verses. The Offertory Antiphon is, as a rule, taken from the Psalter, although occasionally it is taken from other Books of Sacred Scripture. In a few cases as, for instance, in the Requiem Mass, it is an ecclesiastical composition.
As for its musical characteristics, the Offertory is one of the richest and most expressive pieces in the Gregorian repetoire. Dom Eugène Vandeur, a Benedictine monk of the first half of the last century writes:
More mystical and profound than either the Introit or the Gradual, it disposes our souls to recollection that thus they may fittingly assist at the Adorable Sacrifice about to be renewed. The Offertory [Antiphon], then, more than any other part of the Mass, is a sublime and inspired prayer rising to the throne of God.
Sung example: Sicut in holocausto, 13th Sunday per annum.
The Communion Antiphon with its psalm, structured like the Introit, accompanies the distribution of Holy Communion. The Communion of the faithful ended, the Gloria Patri is sung, after which the antiphon is repeated.
While the greater part of Communion Antiphons are drawn from the Psalter, a certain number are taken from the Gospel of the day. These particular Communion Antiphons, sung especially during Lent and Paschaltide, signify that the same Lord Jesus Christ who speaks and acts in the power of the Holy Ghost in the Gospel of the Mass, gives Himself to the communicants to fulfill in them what the Gospel proclaimed and announced.
Sung example: Lutum fecit, 4th Sunday of Lent.
The 1965 Missale Romanum
The 1965 revision of the Roman Missal maintained the Chants of the Proper in their integrity as found in the Graduale Romanum. Even as The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council, Sacrosanctum Concilium, was being implemented, the place of the Propers was not called into question. They remained constitutive elements of the Mass, having a structural and theological rather than a merely decorative or didactic function within the overall architecture of the Mass.
The Missal of 1969
Four years later however, the fate of the Chants of the Proper of the Mass appears signed and sealed. Concerning the Proper Chants, the Apostolic Constitution of Pope Paul VI, Missale Romanum (3 April 1969) is curiously misleading. It says;
The text of the Graduale Romanum has not been changed as far as the music is concerned. In the interest of their being more readily understood, however, the responsorial psalm (which St Augustine and St Leo the Great often mention) as well as the entrance and communion antiphons have been revised for use in Masses that are not sung.With all due respect to Pope Paul VI, what the Apostolic Constitution neglects to say is:
1. that the very form of the Introit has been changed to correspond to the Opening Sentence common in Protestant orders of worship;
2. that the text itself of the revised Entrance Antiphon will no longer correspond to the text of the Graduale Romanum and, in some instances, will be an entirely new text susceptible of being integrated into the didactic opening remarks that, in the new Ordo Missae, may follow the salutation.
3. That even the vestigial psalmody of the traditional Introit will disappear entirely from the reformed Missale Romanum;
3. that the traditional texts of the Gradual, Tract, and Alleluiatic verses will be found henceforth only in the Graduale Romanum and will not appar alongside of the Responsorial Psalm as a legitimate option in the reformed Lectionary;
4. that the Offertory Antiphon will disappear entirely from the new Roman Missal entirely, and will be found henceforth only in the Graduale Romanum;
5. that the Communion Antiphon will, like the Entrance Antiphon, become something akin to a Communion Sentence, and often will no longer correspond to the text of the Graduale Romanum.
Thus began the radical deconstruction of the Mass of the Roman Rite. If one posits that the Chants of the Proper of the Mass are not merely decorative, but constitutive of its architecture, then one must admit that by tinkering with them, or removing them altogether, one is weakening or removing supporting beams of the entire edifice, and risking its collapse.
The General Instruction on the Roman Missal, also promulgated in April 1969, in a single phrase --sive alius cantus-- effectively invited the termites to come in and finish the job. Jesting aside, the Latin text of the General Instruction provided three options for the Chants of the Proper of the Mass. These are:
1. The antiphon with its psalm as given in the Graduale Romanum. 2. The antiphon with its psalm as given in the Graduale Simplex. 3. Another chant (alius cantus) suited to the sacred action and to the character of the day or season, the text of which is approved by the Conference of Bishops. The 2002 American Adaptation of the GIRM
The 2002 American adaptation of the same General Instruction on the Roman Missal broadened the options and, in so doing, caused the text of the Proper Chants of the Roman Mass to appear as remote accessories that are, in any case, not indispensable to the architecture of the celebration.
In the dioceses of the United States of America there are four options for the Entrance Chant: (1) the antiphon from the Roman Missal or the Psalm from the Roman Gradual as set to music there or in another musical setting; (2) the seasonal antiphon and Psalm of the Simple Gradual; (3) a song from another collection of psalms and antiphons, approved by the Conference of Bishops or the Diocesan Bishop, including psalms arranged in responsorial or metrical forms; (4) a suitable liturgical song similarly approved by the Conference of Bishops or the Diocesan Bishop.The choices are given in order of preference. The Roman Gradual, which hitherto was the primary reference, falls into second place. The first choice is the text of the antiphon given in the revised Roman Missal; the American "adaptors" were assuming that these texts will have been put to music.
The second choice is the antiphon and psalm in the Roman Gradual; the American adaptation adds, rather tellingly, either in the chant setting or in another musical setting.
The third choice is the Simple Gradual. The Council Fathers had, in fact, in Sacrosanctum Concilium, article 117, mandated the preparation of a Simple Gradual, better suited to use in smaller churches.
The fourth choice, a collection of psalms and antiphons approved by the Conference of Bishops or by the Diocesan Bishop, does not, to my knowledge, exist anywhere in the U.S. or elsewhere in the English-speaking world.
The fifth choice -- clearly the last resort -- is a suitable liturgical song (here, there is a departure from the psalms and antiphons found in choices 1 through 4) similarly approved by the Conference of Bishops or by the Diocesan Bishop.
The General Instruction on the Roman Missal continues:
48. If there is no singing at the entrance, the antiphon in the Missal is recited either by the faithful, or by some of them, or by a lector; otherwise, it is recited by the priest himself, who may even adapt it as an introductory explanation (cf. above, no. 31).Article 48, by suggesting five different ways of reciting the antiphon in the Missal, including its mutation by the priest into an introductory explanation -- note here the primacy of the didactic -- puts the final touches on a insidious operation by which the Proper Chants of the Mass, even in the minimalistic form of texts recited by the celebrant, routinely came to be omitted altogether. The Proper Chants, that in 1964 were still considered to be constitutive elements of the Mass, deemed indispensable to the very shape of the liturgy, were, by 1969, well on their way to being replaced by other compositions alien to the Roman Rite, and erased from the collective liturgical memory.
Allow me to formulate a principle, perhaps even, with a nod to Anton Baumstark, a law of liturgical evolution. It is this: elements of the rite tend to be neglected and, in the end, disappear altogether, in direct proportion to the number of options by virtue of which they may be replaced or modified.
To my mind, one of the most urgent tasks of what has been called The Reform of the Reform is the suppression of the provision for an alius cantus aptus, and the restoration of the traditional texts of the Proper of the Mass, taking care, at the same time, that the texts given in the Missale Romanum correspond to those in the Graduale Romanum. (I would also argue for the restoration of the text of the Offertorium [Offertory Antiphon] to the editio typica of the reformed Missale Romanum.) The replacement, in the current Missale Romanum of the venerable sung texts of the Graduale Romanum with texts destined to be read, was an innovation without precedent, and a mistake with far reaching and deleterious consequences for the Roman Rite.
In conclusion, I would further argue that a wider use of the Missal of 1962, and a careful examination of the so-called interim Missals published prior to 1969, in whole or in part, would be among the most effective means to the rehabilitation and reappropriation of the Proper Chants as indispensable theological and structural elements of the Mass of the Roman Rite.
I think your dislike of the vernacular is stronger than what Sacrosanctum Concilium's is. You limit the vernacular to the readings and the rubrics, but that is not what SC limits it to. To the readings, the directives, some of the prayers and chants. SC also states that use of the vernacular may be of great advantage to the people, but you seem to deny that (or that is how I percieve what you have said in the past).My response:
My response:I am not saying I know which prayers and chants it may be helpful to have in the vernacular. I am saying that Sacrosanctum Concilium, a document of Vatican II and of the magisterium says that it may prove advantageous for certain prayers and chants to be said in the vernacular. I can give my opinion as to which prayers and chants I personally think would be helpful to have in the vernacular on ocassion, but by no means do I have any authority to make such a determination. Instead that determination was left to the bishops, whom I think made very poor decisions in that respect (some = all is a very poor decision indeed, advantageous = required is even worse).
What I don't understand in your thinking is this: if it is OK to have the divine office and other sacraments in the vernacular, or portions thereof, why would it not be ok to have portions of the divine liturgy in the vernacular as well? Why should one be able to get married, baptized, have confession in the vernacular but not have vernacular parts at mass?
I assure you I am not for the vernacularization of the mass. I am 100% opposed. I do think that the vernacular being offered ocassionally, or at some masses, during certain parts can be beneficial. Why have the readings in both Latin and English? Is the English not good enough to edify God as part of the liturgy and must be reduced to purposes of catechesis during the homily which isn't actually a part of the liturgy?
My personal opines very quickly and briefly written down and not well thought out are as follows:
Certain propers could be sung in English while the preist prays in Latin. No prayer that the preist prays quietly should be moved to the vernacular as the "advantageous" part of it being in the vernacular is gone. The preists should know latin well enough to not have any need for the vernacular, and the laity assisting at mass don't hear what the priest is praying anyways.
This means the entire canon remains in latin at a TLM. The propers are sometimes sung in english for the laity to hear and sing yet still prayed by the priest in Latin. The same possibility for the credo and all other prayers the priest prays.
and I'll have to finish this and re-iterate my thoughts better later tonight as my break time at work is almost over. Basically I think certain parts that are vocalized by the preist during the TLM could be said in the vernacular, all silent/quiet parts remain in latin, and some of the chant could be in English on ocassion. Maybe have a couple TLM's at a parish and one is all Latin while the other has the propers etc in English yet still keeps lots of latin. This is of course... when the Novus Ordo is abolished (either publicly or naturally) and we have a return to the TLM .
I'm sorry, but comments like these are really starting to get tiresome. They crop up nearly everytime a "Reform of the Reform" post is made. We get it, the OF is not perfect.To which I responded:
I would think that such staunch proponents of tradition would have more conservative impulses, which include, among other things, a healthy respect for the world as it is, not as we would like it to be. The Holy See ain't going to abolish the OF and, for the foreseeable future, the OF will remain the liturgical form for the vast majority of Roman Catholics. In light of that reality, I don't see why it is necessary or productive to qualify efforts to make the OF more God-ward, beautiful and aligned with the historic Roman Rite.
Apologies not necessary Andy, but two thoughts.
1. The only perfect liturgy is the heavenly liturgy.
2. As for the vernacular, I am not sure why you keep suggesting that its introduction was not consistent with the view of the Council Fathers when SC so clearly contradicts such an assertion -- as I only recently quoted. What is true is that the Council Fathers did not envision the loss or wholesale replacement of Latin (but that is very different than not envisioning some vernacular.)