Let Catholics pray in Latin
Arecent Gallup poll showed a sharp decline in church membership, the steepest among Catholics. And yet the Catholic Church is suppressing worship among what it calls “the faithful.” Why?
A year ago, Pope Francis issued a decree limiting celebrations of the Latin Mass. The purported purpose was to curb church division among those who rejected 1960s Vatican II changes and the new vernacular version of the Mass known as the Novus Ordo. Six months later, the Pope imposed further restrictions. Bishops wishing to continue the Latin Mass were required to obtain Vatican permission.
Two weeks ago, in a moving letter, our bishop in Savannah, Ga., advised that, per Rome’s directive, as of May 2023, all Latin Masses must cease in our diocese. Until then, the number has been strictly limited. Those in my parish have been stripped of their usual place of worship and moved elsewhere. The mood is bewilderment and sorrow.
Latin Masses in Washington, Chicago and Arlington, Va., are on the chopping block too. Undoubtedly, more suppression will follow. Far and away, the U.S. has the highest percentage of Latin Mass celebrations in the world.
Like many Catholics, my choice of parish and mass to attend came down to personal preference. My children are grown so I prefer a parish with opportunities for more adult engagement. I favor traditional sacred music to services with guitars or dancing at the altar. Instead of contemporary interiors, I’m drawn to ornate, historic venues. As a Catholic newbie, right now I prefer English to Latin.
Each week I watch a stream of diverse worshippers who are nonetheless unified in their beliefs about the Paschal mystery present themselves for communion. The Catholic Church is unique in that regard the world over. The breadth and strength of Peter’s rock is mighty indeed.
It’s true that a fragment of Latin Mass goers made waves decades ago, after Vatican II, and that small pockets are still vocal from time to time. I haven’t encountered any of them among the Latin Mass attendees I’ve met. Indeed, some in my parish attend both the Latin Mass and the Novus Ordo. They just want to be left alone to worship in peace.
Moreover, sweeping generalizations have been employed throughout history as moral justification for collective punishment. The Geneva Conventions condemn it. History demonstrates their harm. And aren’t bishops best positioned to shepherd their own constituents versus wholesale suppression from the top down?
I recently attended a diocesan lecture led by a Church exorcist who revealed that exorcisms are usually conducted in Latin. When I asked why, he said that exorcists generally consider Latin the most powerful language for opposing the Devil. Latin is also the official language of the Catholic Church.
What am I missing and why is my church doing so little to explain? The dispute isn’t purely about the use of Latin, though I doubt that distinction is understood by most. After all, only one-third of Catholics are even conversant with the Church’s core teaching on transubstantiation.
If the Latin Mass is so heretical, why has it been allowed to continue for decades after Vatican II? Why should any priest be permitted to say it or any parishioner be allowed to attend one second longer? Why are younger priests drawn to it? The Catechism commands Catholics to attend weekly Mass. So why was a Latin Mass priest the only one willing to serve me communion — the spiritual food the church proclaims necessary for survival — during the COVID lockdown?
Before joining the Catholic Church in 2018, my rector asked me to spend more time in discernment. During a vacation, I stumbled into the Basilica of the Martyrs in Lisbon. Mass was celebrated entirely in Portuguese. I didn’t understand a word, which allowed other elements of the service to occupy the forefront. The music, the sense of unity with my brothers and sisters when I said, “peace be with you,” and they responded “a paz esteja convosco.” And the openness of my heart to the Holy Spirit when the words “I want to enter the Catholic Church” flew softly from my lips as I beheld the priest raising the Eucharist.
We live in challenging times, with increasing division in the secular world. For Catholics, the house of God is our place of refuge. But even that is under attack from within. Daily, we are assaulted with news of dissension among bishops and reports of high-ranking church officials allowed to prey on the young. Meanwhile, faithful Catholics attending the Latin Mass are being shunned like pariahs.
Last week I attended the Latin Mass in place of my usual worship service. I wanted to extend compassion to my suffering brothers and sisters. The mass was moving and reverent. As long as I’m allowed, I’ll go again.