Chronicle of liturgical decline in Germany which is also an article summarising the arguments which will now be used by those opposed to the Latin Mass
Who the Old Mass attracts and who it repels
A question of inner attitude
The Old Mass is repeatedly the subject of sometimes very heated debates. Our editor reports how he came to know it, how he appreciates it, but nevertheless sees his primary home in the new liturgy.
It was a Sunday in the early 1980s. I was visiting my grandmother for the weekend. My grandfather had died suddenly and unexpectedly a few months earlier. Grandma usually attended vigil mass in the venerable village church in southeastern Münsterland with me, who was just transitioning from kindergarten to elementary school.
But on that weekend, she drove with me and another widow from the neighborhood to a nearby cottage on Sunday morning to celebrate Holy Mass there. What was special about it: It was the Old Mass. The farm owners maintained contact with the Priestly Fraternity of St. Pius X, which had recently opened a boarding school just a few kilometers away.
The local priest, a amiable, rather conservative man who kept female altar servers away from the altar as long as possible, was said to have forbidden his parishioners from attending this Mass. But it was equally clear that my grandmother and her neighbor had ignored this ban that day.
A view of the great outdoors
We were warmly greeted at the farm. The altar servers shook hands with both women and addressed them by name. We celebrated Holy Mass in an old stable that had been converted into a chapel. Behind the altar, a glass wall overlooked the great outdoors. There was also a positive organ, which the farm owner played.
I can hardly remember the liturgical details of my first Old Mass. My interest in such things was too limited. But the service seemed long, very long to me. It smelled of incense, and from the altar I repeatedly heard the cry "Where are you?" (actually "Dominus vobiscum" – "The Lord be with you"), to which the congregation always responded in a language that was foreign to me at the time.
For a long time, the Holy Mass in that cottage remained my only contact with the old liturgy. Perhaps the excommunication of Archbishop Lefebvre and other representatives of the Society of St. Pius X for unauthorized episcopal ordinations a few years later was the reason why my grandmother began attending vigil mass in the village church again.
Jan Hendrik Stens "The German-Dutch-Latin mix of languages allowed me to breathe a piece of the universal Church."
Socialized with the post-conciliar liturgy of West Germany—that is, German-language, composed exclusively of hymns from the Gotteslob (Gottslob) and shortened by a Scripture reading on Sundays—alternative forms always seemed appealing to me during my early years as an altar boy. However, in my first parish church, these were exclusively youth masses, with musical and liturgical arrangements by groups.
When our congregation made its first pilgrimage to Kevelaer after the change of pastor at the end of the 1980s, I experienced how different and yet solemn international Pontifical liturgy could be compared to that in my village church. The mixture of German, Dutch, and Latin languages allowed me to breathe a piece of the global church. And since I had recently started Latin classes at school, I knew what "Ora pro nobis!" meant and could join in the intercessory calls – much to the astonishment of my fellow altar servers.
Latin High Mass as a bone of contention
Later, after my father's death, my mother and I moved to the city and simultaneously to the neighboring diocese. Although the border was not visible from the outside, apart from the fact that a different bishop's name was mentioned in the Eucharistic Prayer, people in the city did not shake hands in the sign of peace. Instead, the congregation's acclamations during High Mass were accompanied by the organ.
The liturgy in the central Catholic parish church also featured the Sunday High Mass being celebrated once a month in Latin and Gregorian chant, albeit in the post-conciliar form. This, however, was already a bone of contention at the time and persisted primarily due to the persistence of the church musician at the time. Attendance on these Sundays was generally lower, a fact the pastor regularly pointed out.
It wasn't until my community service that I became acquainted with the post-conciliar liturgy in its full form. The parish where I lived and worked for 13 months was influenced by the liturgical movement. Sunday Masses always featured the full Liturgy of the Word, consisting of two readings from Scripture and the Gospel. After the first reading, there was no hymn, but rather the designated responsorial psalm.
Jan Hendrik Stens "I liked this constant alternation of hymns, responsorial chants, and psalmody."
The German Mass settings by Heinrich Rohr, Josef Kronsteiner, Heino Schubert, and Hermann Schroeder, which are still numerous in the old Gotteslob, were often sung as Ordinary. Every Sunday evening, an additional devotion or vespers was celebrated alternately. I liked this constant alternation of hymns, responsorial chants, and psalmody.
Shortly before my studies, I came into contact with the Old Mass again. This was organized by the lay association "Pro Missa Tridentina" and took place early on Sunday mornings in a church in the old town of Münster. The celebrants were exclusively priests of the diocese, who had experienced and celebrated this form of liturgy themselves. The sermons were therefore all within the framework and at the cutting edge of the time.
The musical direction was provided by a retired church musician from the diocese, who was deeply committed to the preservation of Gregorian chant. He did not stick to what he himself had learned as a young man, but also followed the reading of the music using neumes, i.e., the handwritten entries from Laon and St. Gallen. For the Schola, he had copied the music from the Graduale triplex, which contains these manuscripts, and rearranged it in ring binders for the Old Mass.
Influenced by the Liturgical Movement
In general, the liturgy according to the 1962 Missal in Münster was also strongly influenced by the Liturgical Movement. It was important that the congregation participate in the singing. The Epistle and Gospel were recited in German in addition to the Latin version. Occasionally, a short impulse was given before the Mass began, explaining a particular liturgical act in more detail and encouraging meditation on it. This is how I met Heino Schubert, the former Essen Cathedral organist, who occasionally performed the organ service there.
Liturgical Movement
The "Liturgical Movement" was a return to the liturgical traditions of the Latin Church. At the same time, it was about a renewal of the individual and the church community from within. The roots of the Liturgical Movement lie in the second half of the 19th century in the Benedictine abbeys of Solesmes, Beuron, and Maria Laach.
The community at the Münster Old Mass was diverse and heterogeneous. Among them were large families who traveled from far away every Sunday, as well as singles, skeptics, and sometimes outsiders who stopped by out of pure curiosity. In conversations and later in private encounters, however, I also noticed the theological narrow-mindedness that drove some in their zeal for faith. Even then, as a young theology student in Münster, where one famously completes the "minor hereticism," this was somewhat strange to me.
And I also realized that as a member of the community, one quickly exposes oneself to the suspicion of being "old-fashioned" or even "right-wing Catholic." One Sunday, after mass, someone handed out the current issue of a right-wing weekly newspaper in front of the portal. The reason: The cover was about abortion. But I also saw how many of those standing around politely declined to purchase a copy.
Theological narrowness
Theological narrowness is particularly evident in the traditional milieu when it comes to liturgical language. When, at a liturgical conference with largely traditionalist participants, someone raised the heretical question of what was so wrong with celebrating liturgy in one's native language, since God also understands German, a veritable commotion erupted. A short time later, however, another conference participant, a priest of the Fraternity of St. Peter, approached the questioner and apologized on behalf of the person who had asked the question and apologized for the violent reactions. Of course, it is perfectly legitimate and right to pray to God in one's native language.
Is it the Latin that fascinates about the Old Mass, or is it the rite? Heino Schubert once told me that for him, the Old Mass and the New Mass weren't all that different, if they were both celebrated in Latin or both in German according to the regulations. However, a speaker at another liturgical conference caused some irritation in the audience by admitting that he preferred the Old Mass in German to the New Mass in Latin. He was concerned with the content and the gestures. Language was secondary.
Experiments from the post-Conciliar attitude
After the entry into force of "Summorum Pontificum," places where the Old Mass was celebrated mushroomed. However, participation remained rather limited almost everywhere. A small group, of which I was a member, began offering the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, as the Old Mass was now called, on Saturday mornings in a small church outside the city.
Our approach to this liturgy was characterized by experiments – admittedly not always entirely in accordance with the regulations. Our schola was ecumenical, often mixed, and led by an Anglican and myself. Those who raised their hands for Communion also received the Body of the Lord.
We further questioned whether it might not be sufficient for the liturgical celebration of the Liturgy of the Word to recite the Scripture readings only once – and then in German – so that the congregation could tear themselves away from their Schott missals and simply listen.
But the experiment failed. The congregation also looked into the Schott during the German recitation. We therefore decided to return to the celebration in Latin because it simply sounds more beautiful sung.
Jan Hendrik Stens "For me, it is [...] an alternative and dignified way of celebrating the liturgy and encountering God, and also an important cultural asset."
Why do I hardly ever celebrate the Old Mass these days? While it is an alternative and dignified way for me to celebrate liturgy and encounter God, it is also an important cultural asset. The great musical compositions of the past centuries were written for it. However, I primarily consider my home in the post-conciliar liturgy, with which I grew up.
Furthermore, for over 16 years now, I have had the luxury of living in a large city with an extremely rich range of worship services. My personal preference for Gregorian chant and the Sunday use of Latin is met by the Ordo Novus High Mass in one of the venerable basilicas. I also experience other forms of the Mass through my liturgical services.
A key point, however, is the different order of the liturgical year. The Liturgy of the Hours has been an important part of my spirituality and prayer life for over 25 years. Especially on Sundays and feast days, it is closely interwoven with the content of the Mass. Here, the old and new liturgies form two parallel worlds, which is very regrettable. After several attempts, the old breviary has consistently proven impractical for me.
Sung Prayer Mass and Lamentation Sermon
When, after many years, I was looking for alternatives during a visit to my hometown on a Sunday due to the unattractive range of services, I discovered that the Old Mass was still being celebrated in the chapel of that cottage. So I took a bike ride there that morning. The owner greeted me with a firm handshake and revealed that she had chosen a Marian Mass as the Ordinary because of the recent Marian feast.
It was a classic Prayer Mass in the old form. At best, we sang German hymns from the "Sursum Corda," the old hymnal of the Archdiocese of Paderborn, reflecting on the liturgical event. The celebrant was a priest from a northern German diocese who had been stranded in my hometown. His homily was a constant lament about poor translations in the new Missal, which, in his view, deny the Mass as a sacrifice. For me, it was more of a service to break the habit, despite the Old Mass. It is precisely the inner attitude with which I celebrate the liturgy that is decisive, and not least, participation in the liturgical texts.
Under Pope Francis, the friends of the Old Mass suffered greatly. The behavior of some traditionalists had angered the Pontiff too much. Some pilgrimages associated with the old liturgy became triumphal processions, and the Old Mass was often seen as opposed to the New. This, of course, led to polemics from the other side. They were labeled "backward-looking" or "not standing on the foundation of the Council." Priests, especially those who themselves trampled on the new missal, outdid themselves in their polemics against the old liturgical form.
While the co-existence of the old and new forms in Germany proceeded relatively smoothly – in Paderborn Cathedral, evening Mass has been celebrated in the crypt every Wednesday in the old form since "Summorum Pontificum" – the divisions, especially in France and the USA, must have become so great that Francis felt compelled to intervene. Whether he took a one-sided approach in evaluating his survey on "Summorum Pontificum," as some now posthumously accuse him of, is debatable. However, the driving force behind "Traditionis Custodes" was also Cardinal Arthur Roche, who just as sharply opposed the behavior of the traditionalist agitators.
Nostalgia isn't always at play
Those who suffer from the "Traditionis Custodes" decision are also those who don't see the Old Mass as a "return to the past." As described at the beginning, my childhood was shaped by the post-conciliar Prayer Mass of the West German type. So it's not always nostalgia at play, but sometimes also the search for something different or the desire not to be distracted from praying and celebrating by unnecessary verbal contributions in the liturgy.
Shortly after "Summorum Pontificum," an older priest influenced by the Council remarked incomprehensibly that he didn't know what could possibly drive someone to this pre-conciliar liturgy. Did one want to be "left alone" there? A friend responded with "That's exactly how it is!"
What will happen next under Pope Leo XIV? His core mission is clearly to overcome internal divisions within the Church. He may attempt to find a middle ground between "Summorum Pontificum" and "Traditionis Custodes" in order to reconcile the adherents of the old and the new liturgy, which is anything but easy given the many polemics.
Some hopes and expectations expressed in recent weeks that Leo would repeal "Traditionis Custodes" could quickly backfire. For example, Cardinals Burke and Zen, among others, recently felt compelled to admonish the adherents of the old liturgy to keep a low profile and not put unnecessary pressure on Leo. Will this plan work?
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