monty wrote:... the original post brings back memories of how things were before Vatican II when the only real place for laity (in my opinion, I was only a child so could be wrong) was kneeling in the pews, sitting whilst the detached choir sang and putting money in the collection tray. We turned up for all the processions and there was no choice. The whole neighbourhood was involved so why would we be anywhere else? The most I knew about Epistles was that if you did not get to church before the 2nd Epistle you could not count it as having attended Mass so either had to go to a later one or confess it as a sin.
Did I feel involved? Yes.
Did I understand all the Latin? No.
Was it a way of life? Yes.
Did I feel my religion was the core of my life? Yes.
Now, do I feel involved? yes but mainly because I am in a choir, am a reader, EM, general willing dogsbody
Do I understand the Latin motets we sing? No. Do I feel I need to? No - I am singing to God
Is this a way of life? I make it so but that is not easy and none of my neighbours share this way of life.
Do I feel my religion is the core of my life? No, but I know that God is.
So, I consider arguing about the use of Latin is missing the point....
This is also how I remember things before Vatican II, but I think the key point is the bit I've highlighted. My father brought me up as he was brought up, believing that Sunday Mass was not to be missed except for the strongest of reasons. Although I was not taken to Mass as a baby, I was taken to Benediction as a small child, to get the feeling of going to church. Once I started school there was no question of not going to Mass. Nor was there any question of taking toys or even paper and pencil: I had to keep quiet and pay attention, not easy for a child with a Mass happening remotely and in Latin, but there was indeed a sense of mystery about it, which I appreciated, and I was given books explaining the Mass and took an interest in finding out what was going on.
This is a very far cry from the situation prevalent in many churches today where children are catered for with their own liturgy (good: not available in my day) but are also allowed to bring noisy toys to play with when not in their own liturgy or even, it seems, miss Mass altogether if there is a pressing reason (like football). As was said recently on another thread (which I can't find for the moment) the main problem is a lack of commitment among parents, which filters down to the children, resulting in a lack of respect for the Mass.
In that sense, Monty is right that arguing about Latin is missing the point: reverting to Latin won't bring back the respect and feeling of involvement he (and I) experienced in those days, because attitudes generally have changed. Nevertheless, the discussion about Latin is worth having. About 15 years ago, I attended a wedding in France conducted according to the Tridentine rite. The groom and his father were keen followers of Marcel Lefevre and so were other guests I talked to after the wedding. From what I could follow of the conversation in an extremely noisy marquee, they found the old rite much more fulfilling spiritually and they felt that the churches following the Tridentine rite were flourishing, especially among the young, whereas support for the new rite was dwindling. The last Sunday Mass I attended in France was about five years ago, in a little village church where the small congregation was almost entirely elderly, so maybe that bears out the views of the pro-Tridentine lobby, who were at that time an unofficial breakaway group. Recent moves by Pope Benedict have, at least, enabled them to rejoin the fold (though whether the family I visited at that wedding have done so I can't tell as I've had very little contact with them recently).
The danger is that the move to permit the old rite and language for those who do want it may turn into an attempt (real or imagined) to foist Latin onto those who don't. There was some adverse reaction at my church about 20 years ago when we introduced Taizé chants in Latin, as some people initially felt alienated by the language. If I replaced congregational hymns with Latin motets I doubt it would go down well; even if I replaced the hymns with Psallite-type antiphons I expect I would be accused of turning the Mass into a performance for the choir. If I replaced our sung English settings of the Ordinary with Latin plainchant I expect I would face demands for a completely spoken Mass. If that completely spoken Mass were in Latin it would probably empty the church.
This is not to say that everybody sings everything at my church at present: we probably have a lot of arguable "passive non-participants", though they presumably get what they want out of the Mass and it's certainly not my place to pass judgement on them. On the other hand, we do have active participants for the reasons Monty cites: choir (and musicians), readers, EMs and general willing dogsbodies, taking advantage of opportunities not available to them pre-Vatican II. Another change between the "old days" and the present is that we now have far fewer priests and the role of lay dogsbodies is all the more vital in keeping parish communities going.
At the start of this thread:
johnquinn39 wrote:There is a lot of talk at the moment about teaching people (the young in particular) Latin, and using archaic and non-inclusive language.
Iam not sure why.
Is there a danger here that we could leave people remote (or removed) from the Word of God?
For reasons given above I would answer yes, there is a danger: if Latin is forced on congregations that don't want it it may well make them feel alienated. If, on the other hand, the young are taught to appreciate Latin it may be that in time they will find more spiritual fulfilment that way - if they choose to seek it. The same applies to archaic translations: if people are educated to appreciate the beauty of archaic language it may well prove an enriching experience, but if not it is more likely to become a barrier.
Having said that, there are some horrors in the modern language used in the liturgy: the one I find most cringe-worthy is the JB translation of Lk15:14: "... he began to feel the pinch", though fortunately my PP usually paraphrases that one when it is the Gospel of the day. More disconcerting is the uncomfortably clunky draft new translation of the Mass, where the close adherence to the Latin produces something that is neither beautifully archaic nor a direct modern translation - now
that is something that could well get in the way of the message.
