Some obvious rambling, and a difficult question.
A question for you all. How does one encourage the interest of young people in the old rite Mass? I drag the odd friend along from time to time, but most of them don't come back - they think it's not their cup of tea. Which is, on one level, absolutely fine - I'm all for legitimate diversity, have no quibbles with the validity of NO, etc etc. At the same time, however, going to one old rite Mass isn't likely to mean that you've got a handle on the differences between the liturgies; and it seems to me that there is so much good to be gained from the old rite that as many people as possible should have the chance to become acquainted with it. But it's quite difficult to say to folk - especially students, it seems - 'Look, this liturgy is great, and enormously edifying and prayerful, and has helped me hugely... but you might want to read all this stuff first, and it'll take about six weeks to stop being confused by singing one thing while the priest does something else...' Or rather, it's perfectly easy to say; it's just difficult to get them to do it...
I began going to the Trid - just after I realised I had to become a Catholic - primarily because, a) as a medievalist I had a professional curiosity, and b) I had a couple of Triddy friends whose judgement I trusted. (Actually the first old rite Mass I heard was in a convent in Liechtenstein and I had no clue what was going in, but it all helped to push me to Rome...) It occurs to me that these factors involve several helpful circumstances. Not having been going to Mass all my life (which is obviously not good per se), I was used to the notion that one might have to put some effort into following liturgy, at least for a while; I was well aware that there had recently been vast changes in the practice of Latin Catholicism, and had a much firmer grasp on fifteenth-century that late-twentieth-century ecclesiastical matters; having first been familiar with bits of the Mass for musical purposes, in Latin, I knew just how awful the ICEL translations of the Mass were.
To state the obvious: a great many young cradle Catholics have practically no idea that the Mass changed recently, beyond vague ideas that it used to be in Latin and there were no altar girls. Now young folk I know are by no means hostile to the idea of the old rite as such (unless, and inasmuch as, they associate it with the SSPX and disobedience: lots of first-years in Edinburgh wander into the SSPX chapel near their halls, and it hits them for six). At the same time, however, they have absolutely no idea why it might be quite a good thing to have some notion of liturgical tradition: no idea that the Church has two thousand years of liturgical development with which to nourish her children; no idea that dubious vernacular translation is a matter for concern, because it robs the faithful of food; no idea that learning how the Latin Church conducted her liturgy for a thousand years or so might offer aid in living out one's baptismal vows. All of which, I think, is accompanied by a vague idea that Vatican II changed everything (in some unspecified way) and that this was somehow necessary. This may all be an unfair over-generalisation, but, purely anecdotally, this is the king of impression that I get. And while such ideas might result in benign indifference to the celebration of liturgy according to the old rite, it is clear that general indifference to the riches of tradition is not helpful for souls. People may do perfectly well, of course, without paying any attention to things before 1969; but it seems almost wilfully counter-intuitive to ignore the feast of prayer, thought, discipline, art and devotions which may well help so many of the faithful.
I began going to the Trid - just after I realised I had to become a Catholic - primarily because, a) as a medievalist I had a professional curiosity, and b) I had a couple of Triddy friends whose judgement I trusted. (Actually the first old rite Mass I heard was in a convent in Liechtenstein and I had no clue what was going in, but it all helped to push me to Rome...) It occurs to me that these factors involve several helpful circumstances. Not having been going to Mass all my life (which is obviously not good per se), I was used to the notion that one might have to put some effort into following liturgy, at least for a while; I was well aware that there had recently been vast changes in the practice of Latin Catholicism, and had a much firmer grasp on fifteenth-century that late-twentieth-century ecclesiastical matters; having first been familiar with bits of the Mass for musical purposes, in Latin, I knew just how awful the ICEL translations of the Mass were.
To state the obvious: a great many young cradle Catholics have practically no idea that the Mass changed recently, beyond vague ideas that it used to be in Latin and there were no altar girls. Now young folk I know are by no means hostile to the idea of the old rite as such (unless, and inasmuch as, they associate it with the SSPX and disobedience: lots of first-years in Edinburgh wander into the SSPX chapel near their halls, and it hits them for six). At the same time, however, they have absolutely no idea why it might be quite a good thing to have some notion of liturgical tradition: no idea that the Church has two thousand years of liturgical development with which to nourish her children; no idea that dubious vernacular translation is a matter for concern, because it robs the faithful of food; no idea that learning how the Latin Church conducted her liturgy for a thousand years or so might offer aid in living out one's baptismal vows. All of which, I think, is accompanied by a vague idea that Vatican II changed everything (in some unspecified way) and that this was somehow necessary. This may all be an unfair over-generalisation, but, purely anecdotally, this is the king of impression that I get. And while such ideas might result in benign indifference to the celebration of liturgy according to the old rite, it is clear that general indifference to the riches of tradition is not helpful for souls. People may do perfectly well, of course, without paying any attention to things before 1969; but it seems almost wilfully counter-intuitive to ignore the feast of prayer, thought, discipline, art and devotions which may well help so many of the faithful.
So, carissimi, are there any particularly good ways to encourage people to put in the bit of time and effort it will take to become newly acquainted with Tradition? Particularly since lots of my Catholic chums probably pigeon-hole me (in the nicest possible may) as Mad Retro Convert. There are, of course, all the practical political problems as well - advertising being a bit of an issue, lack of enthusiasm from bishop (though he allows it, Deo gratias, and I suppose he can't be enthusiastic about everything), not wanting to tread on other PPs' and chaplains' toes, blahdiblah... I appreciate that Being A Saint is always the best answer to, well, pretty much anything. But apart from that ongoing project - any hints and tips?
- Boeciana | 9:13 AM GMT
|
Comments [7]
