One would never have guessed the power of just zooming the camera back.
In late spring, as I’ve written, our beloved local priest, Father Mark, died of esophageal cancer at age 49. The grief-stricken congregation was oddly denied admission to the parish church for his funeral. The church ended up being half empty; the service was to be streamed for those who cared to watch.
When one of my sisters phoned the other day, we got to talking about the church in which we grew up.
We were raised high-church Episcopalian. When you went to church there was no other place it could possibly be and nothing but worship could have possibly been going on. As the priest consecrated the body and blood for communion, he — yes, he — faced the altar and crucifix. We received communion on the tongue while we knelt at the communion rail. The lay readers — those who read the Epistle at each service — were enrobed, as were we acolytes.
The Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, popularly known as Vatican II, sought to confront a hidebound clericalism, and a modern world that no longer takes as its starting points basic natural law and Christian dogmatic commitments. It is unfortunately known in some circles for the opportunity it provided for poorly catechized Catholics and progressive innovators to make changes (liturgical abuses) under the guise of the Council’s authority.
Last Friday Pope Francis effectively banned celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass, a kind of worship that is unsurpassed in its solemnity and, at its best, in its splendor. In so doing, he flung down and danced upon one of the signal accomplishments of his predecessor, Benedict XVI, and told millions of devout and pious Catholics around the world that the Church is no longer the place for them.