.
This gave them a certain control of the proceedings and enabled
them to devise loopholes and ambiguities in the acta for
subsequent exploitation. The "pastoral" rather than dogmatic
character of this Council made its texts all the more susceptible
of tendentious interpretation.
It was of course the same progressive party
which got the job of implementing the conciliar decrees, and that
is where the trouble became most serious. The Party’s first
concern was with the liturgy, which of all the Church’s
institutions stood in least need of reform, and which no
responsible Catholic wanted to change. The Council had made a few
cautious, limited and reasonable concessions for the vernacular
languages to be used in scriptural readings and prayers in which
the people took a vocal part. These apart, it insisted on the
retention of Latin. But that was not what the Party wanted. The
existing lex orandi was an obstacle to their new religion,
so it had to be destroyed. The Church text was defied, and the
Holy Mass of all the Catholic ages, the Church’s most sacred
treasure and the most beautiful thing this side of heaven, was
cunningly demolished by installments and replaced by a completely
different rite, entirely vernacular and frequently vulgar,
celebrated back to front, and shorn of the traditional gestures of
reverence and the verbal safeguards of Catholic Eucharistic
doctrine —just the things that Cranmer himself had suppressed. The
sacrificial element was consigned to oblivion, and all the
emphasis transferred to the "memorial" and "meal" elements, just
as in the Protestant "Lord’s Supper." The obvious purpose was to
make the Eucharist so "ecumenical" that it could be shared by
those who had no belief in either the Sacrifice or the Real
Presence. Can one imagine anything more dastardly than this
betrayal of the Holy of Holies for the beaux yeux of
believers? Yet the Modernists were allowed —and are still allowed
—to get away with it and to impose it on the whole Church of the
West. No such subversion has ever before been known in the
Catholic Church.
And what a vernacular! —the shabby,
ephemeral speech of the streets and the pubs brought into the
sanctuary! The whole concept of a vernacular liturgy is indeed a
monstrosity, only to be excused by total illiteracy of the
worshippers. Are the Catholics of the West so illiterate that they
cannot read even the simplest prayer book? Liturgy is an
essentially sacred thing, eternal truths clad in an unchanging
form: in a word, it must be hieratic, not demotic. The
Church has been telling us this for centuries, and had repeated it
emphatically as recently as 1962 (the Apostolic Constitution of
John XXIII, Veterum Sapientia); but the Church was now made
to eat her own words and swing over to the Protestant slogan of "a
language understanded of the people" —as if Latin had been a mere
mumbo-jumbo to our people for all these centuries!
Since the Novus Ordo Missae was designed
as an "ecumenical" liturgy, ambivalence was essential to it. Hence
the many alternative formulas (Confiteors, Canons, etc.) left to
the option of the celebrant, together with the studied ambiguity
of the wording where any definite Catholic doctrine (such as
transubstantiation or sacrifice) is involved. Hence the abolition
of the Offertory prayers, and the reduction of the Consecration to
what can be taken as a mere narrative. The result of it all has
been to stir up controversy among the faithful as to whether the
new liturgy can be regarded as sacramentally valid. To take the
negative view would amount to questioning the God-given authority
of the Church which has sanctioned the changes. But a careful
study of such works as Michael Davies’ masterly trilogy on the
Liturgical Revolution will show that the bare essentials of
validity have been preserved, but in so thoroughly Protestantized
a setting and mentality that lapses from validity are much more
likely to occur, and the Catholic faith cannot be expected to
survive or flourish in such an environment. All that used to
protect and nourish this faith has been ruthlessly cut away in the
interests of "ecumenism", and the effect of the revolution can be
plainly seen in the vast exodus from the Church which has followed
it.
The Novus Ordo was only a first step.
The Party had many more changes up its sleeve. The revolution was
to be "on-going," the faithful were to have no respite from shocks
and scandals. Soon we had Communion in the hand, a gratuitous
profanation borrowed from the Dutch dissenters and railroaded into
the Church elsewhere by admiring episcopal conferences in face of
papal protest and popular disgust. Then came the Lay Ministers,
male and female, handing out Holy Communion, while the priest
looks on from his chair —unemployed, redundant. It is a galloping
process of "desacralization." Nothing is now to be held sacred or
inviolable. All that was sacred in our religion from time
immemorial is being dragged down to a common and profane level, to
adapt it to the abject spirit of this age.
So much for what is going on with official
approval, within the widening limits of the law. I have said
nothing about the spate of outrages and sacrileges which have
sprung up in the wake of the Novus Ordo, for these
should be abhorrent even to progressives. They simply did not
happen under the old order; the re fore the new order is
responsible for them. But authority does nothing to correct them.
There seems to be no limit to what the bishops will now tolerate
—so long as the abuses are committed on the liberal, revolutionary
side. But if any poor deprived Catholic on the other side attempts
to revive the Holy Mass, then the fulminations begin! The only
capital offence that remains, it seems, is fidelity to Catholic
tradition.
When the President of Una Voce at an
interview with Archbishop (now Cardinal) Benelli in Rome in
October 1976, pointed out the existing liturgical chaos and asked
how, in view of this state of things, the suppression of the old
Mass could be justified, he was told that "those who wish to
retain the old Mass have a different ecclesiology." This from
one of the closest advisors of the then Pope; it meant that those
who were faithful to Catholic tradition were now to be treated as
dissidents. The phrase quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab
omnibus ("What has been believed always, everywhere, and by
all") as a criterion of orthodoxy bad now been rejected in
favor of a new Party Line which contradicted the Church’s entire
previous tradition. What was forbidden and condemned yesterday
becomes lawful today, and mandatory tomorrow. What had always been
seen as black, is now white, and vice versa —because the
Party says so. This comes close to the Bolshevik criterion of
morality: what is right or wrong is simply what helps or hinders
the Party.
Pope Paul VI himself used to speak of a "new
orientation" of the Church’s life and liturgy following Vatican
II, and the whole charge against Archbishop Lefebvre in that
pontificate was that His Grace would not accept this fatal
orientation. He could not accept it —we cannot
accept it —because it is an entirely new thing in the Church, a
new ethos incompatible with Catholic dogmatic tradition. If we
accept this reorientation, we must hold that the Church’s teaching
has been utterly mistaken all through the past twenty centuries of
its history, from the Apostles onward, until light dawned at last
in the nineteen-sixties, thanks to Bugnini and his men. It was an
about-turn, away from the supernatural and transcendent towards
the natural and worldly, from the divine to the merely human.
Those who have eyes to see can see more clearly every day that
such a periagoge, if persisted in, can only lead to
the destruction of the Catholic and Christian religion.
The Party, modernist and progressive, which
seized power in the Church from the Council onwards and is
constantly building it up by selective appointments, is moving in
the same direction as the Protestant reformers whom it copied so
closely in the new liturgy. But it is going much faster and
further than they went. It is Liberal-Protestant, which means in
the long run non-Christian and anti-Christian. It has allied
itself with the secular humanism which now rules the Western
world, and is even making overtures to the communist powers, after
having rendered the Council virtually ineffectual by refusing to
condemn the world’s greatest menace.
It should be noted that the ideology of
Liberal-Protestantism is practically the same as that of the
Modernism which appeared somewhat later in the Catholic Church. It
disintegrates traditional beliefs in much the same way, and both
can be seen as concurrent stages in the destruction of
Christianity itself. St. Pius X remarked this in his encyclical
Pascendi in 1907: historical Protestantism and Modernism, he
says, are successive stages in the progress to Atheism.
Contemporary liberals (e.g., those who
write in the ex-Catholic Tablet) are apt to crow with
delight over the notion that the Catholic religion has undergone a
"mutation" in consequence of Vatican II —or rather, "the spirit of
Vatican II," a spook which as often as not is made to contradict
the letter of the Council. They fail to understand, it seems, that
the Catholic religion is of such a nature that a "mutation" —i.e.,
a radical and permanent change —can only destroy it.
From these observations, and from many others
which could be mentioned, there emerges the picture of a Church
which is unrecognizable as the Church we were brought up in
—rather like an ugly stepmother, all spots and wrinkles, in place
of the Holy Mother Church we knew and loved in pre-conciliar days.
It is not only the ecclesiology that is different; everything is
different. The bogus "ecumenism" aims at ironing out the
distinctions of true and false in religion, so that Catholic
doctrine goes into the melting pot with everything else. The
Council of Trent and the Counter-Reformation are dismissed as no
longer "relevant" to the "adult man" of the twentieth century.
Christ’s hierarchical Kingdom of God, transcending space and time,
must now give place to the "People of God," this-worldly,
democratic, liberal and egalitarian. The ministerial priesthood
must no longer be distinguished from the common priesthood of the
faithful, and the Pope must forego his supreme and paternal
authority and resign himself to being a mere primus inter
pares, the spokesman of the bishops, whose claim to
"collegiality" implies that it is for them to decide all
questions in committee, by a majority of votes.
With doctrine thus being whittled away for the
sake of specious agreement with heterodox bodies, and with the
supreme authority being put into commission, the prospect before
the Conciliar Church becomes bleakly Protestant, and ultimately
non-Christian. A further catastrophic development is that the
Neo-Modernists, unlike the earlier breed, have now scrapped the
Ten Commandments, done away with moral absolutes and the notion of
sin as an offence against God, and reduced morality to the
"situation ethics" of secular humanism, where literally everything
is permitted as long as one thinks it meets one’s needs of the
moment or develops one’s "personality."
Now that sin has been swept under the carpet,
those two bastions of Catholic spirituality, confession and
penance, are of course found to be superfluous. The deserted
confessionals are being removed from the churches, and the
sacrament, when it is used, tends to become a sort of psychiatric
session. As for the laws of fasting and abstinence, they are
virtually abolished. Before the Council about a hundred days of
the year were affected by fasting or abstinence or both. Since
then a series of wholesale swipes has reduced them to a derisory
two days in the year! Another concession to Protestantism, which
from its earliest days has despised the se weapons of the spirit.
This progressive ideology has of course taken over the Catholic
schools, seminaries and universities, and bought up the Catholic
press: all these institutions are failing, or have already fallen,
into the "ex-Catholic" category. Even the expensive schools run by
the religious orders themselves have joined the Modernist
bandwagon. Many faithful Catholics have found themselves obliged
to take their children away from "Catholic", schools in order to
save their faith. As for the others, the present hapless
generation of children will, for the most part apparently, become
a write-off. The only hope of a genuinely Catholic education lies
now in new foundations, at the cost of much sacrifice and struggle
for the faithful remnant. A grace-selected remnant there will
certainly be, for the continuance of the Church, but the majority
of our once-Catholic population, those who will not bestir
themselves to resist and protest against what has been done to
them, finding it easier to swim with the post-conciliar stream,
are becoming daily and visibly more and more assimilated in
manners, morals and beliefs to their Protestant neighbors, and
will soon be indistinguishable from them. "Ecumenism" will then
have attained its goal, not by a return of the separated brethren
to the one true fold, but by a massive apostasy from that fold,
led by its own shepherds —a massive sell-out of Catholic truth.
A fearful example of this sell-out may be seen
in the "pastoral" councils and congresses of recent years —an
updated kind of "robber councils" of lay persons and clerics,
approved and attended by the national hierarchies for the
furtherance of "renewal" or revolution. Among the most notorious
have been those of Holland and America (the Detroit "Call to
Action"), and (in 1980) Liverpool. At this latest festival of
loquacity and pop-theology the participants (hand-picked
Modernists, of course) called for the scrapping among other
things, of considerable portions of the moral law (God’s eternal
law). At the end of it all, the bishops got up and effusively
thanked and congratulated the pastoral freebooters. If anyone
cares to remember this conciliabulum, it may well go
down in history as the Latrocinium Liverpolitanum ("The
Robber Council of Liverpool").
What shall we call the multitudes of
ex-Catholic shepherds and their sheep who have
either defected or drifted into a new religion?
Perhaps we might call them "Roman Protestants." We older Catholics
did not like being called Roman Catholics, for we did not admit
that there was any other kind of Catholics. But there are various
kinds of Romans, and many kinds of Protestants; and Rome is now
the headquarters, not only of the Catholic Church, but of the
Modernist Mafia which has invaded and subjected it. At the English
CoIlege in Rome, that venerable nursery of episcopabiles,
we got occasional pep-talks on the cardinal virtue of romanita
(Romishness). That was in the nineteen-twenties, when Rome was
the citadel of orthodoxy, and we saw nothing incongruous in such a
virtue. Things are very different in the Deutero-Vatican era, and
I often wonder whether my contemporaries and epigoni,
mitred or otherwise, might not have done well to dilute their
romanita with a much stiffer dose of cattolicita. It
might have saved some of them from ending up as Roman Protestants.
When obedience to the constant tradition of the
Church is so clearly in conflict with obedience to certain
office-holders who have departed from that tradition, we
rank-and-file Catholics must use our common sense and opt for the
superior obedience. The simple faithful have always done this in
times of epidemic heresy. Such crisis are happily very rare. The
gravest in the Church’s past history was the Arian crisis of the
fourth century, when, as St. Jerome expressed it, "the whole
world groaned in astonishment to find themselves Arian;" or,
as Newman puts it, "there was a temporary suspense of the
functions of the ‘ecclesia docens’." We are living in such a
crisis now, that of the Modernist Reformation. The Church was
drugged for a major "mutation" in the nineteen-sixties, and is now
gradually coming round to find itself Liberal-Protestant. It is in
this situation that faithful Catholics are finding themselves
faced with the stark alternative of becoming either recusants or
renegades.
Sixteen hundred years ago, when the bulk of the
hierarchy had strayed from the faith of Nicaea and even the Pope
faltered for a time, St. Athanasius headed the faithful few who
stood out for Catholic truth against a world in the grip of
heresy. He had much to suffer, and was even excommunicated, but
eventually his cause prevailed and the faith was saved. In our day
likewise, amid the ceaseless babble of post-conciliar Newspeak,
one episcopal voice has been heard to observe, in plain French,
that one religion is not as good as another, that faith and
morals are not variable with times and circumstances, and
(with regard to "renewal") that the emperor has no clothes! For
the audacity of these views, and for his fidelity to Catholic
tradition, he is denounced and persecuted by the liberal
establishment, but will not recant. His witness and his work
continues, and the day will come when a restored Church will bless
his name. Once again, magna est veritas et praevalebit.