Attending the old Roman Mass can initially be confusing for people accustomed to the Pauline rites, not just because of the Latin language or textual differences, but also because of the popular silence at moments of prayer. Many of the sacerdotal prayers are said either during singing or amid complete quiet, only concluding aloud with per omnia saecula saeculorum: "unto the ages of ages". These prayers are among the more vital parts unique to the priest. The prayers with a uniquely congregational purpose are said aloud (the collect, the readings, the post-Communion etc) while prayers germane to the priest's office are said in secrecy (prayers of purification, Offertory prayers, the Canon, the celebrant's own Communion). Paul VI's Mass continued this distinction aside from the now-auricular Canon. The Byzantine Divine Liturgy also retains this distinction more often than not. Sort of.
Aside from the mention of the Pope during the commemoration of hierarchs in the Anaphora, the Divine Liturgy of Greek rite Catholics and Byzantine Orthodox really only has one major distinction in the United States: the Catholics say the Anaphora aloud more often than not, aside from some more ethnic parishes which tend to emulate the Motherland where the Orthodox praxis persists happily. However, there is one Byzantine Catholic rite that resembles the Orthodox and Greek Catholic liturgies just a little less; that would be the Ruthenian Catholic Church's Divine Liturgy.
The Ruthenian Church, initially comprised of Catholic immigrants from the Carpatho-Ruthenian mountains to America, follows the Slavic branch of the Divine Liturgy (except for the Little and Great Entrances, which circle the entire temple). Their Liturgy possesses the same order of Litanies found in other versions of the Divine Liturgy, but the concluding sacerdotal blessing, which is normally said silently by the priest if a deacon leads the litanies or omitted by the priest if there is no deacon, are always said and always said aloud.
Why? Why must I hear the priest, after the Litany of Fervent supplication, pray aloud
"Lord our God, accept this fervent supplication from Your servants, and have mercy on us in accordance with the abundance of Your mercy, and send down Your compassion upon us and upon all Your people who await Your great and rich mercy"
when I have just heard those very words sung in the Litany itself:
"O Lord almighty, God of our Fathers, we pray you, hear and have mercy.
"Have mercy on us, O God, according to your great mercy, we pray you, hear and have mercy."
Aside from the obvious redundancy this repetition ignores an important element in the Divine Liturgy's distinction between the role of the priest and the deacon, which is that the priest serves Christ's priesthood before God while the deacon is the leader of popular prayer. The received praxis of the priest and deacon saying this prayer in differing forms at the same time unites God and the people through their respective offices. Repeating this prayer aloud foregoes this essential point in favor of wordiness.
As mentioned before, the Ruthenians follow the general tendency of Greek rite Catholics in the United States to sing the anaphora aloud. The Ukrainian and Melkite Churches follow this rule for the Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom, but for the Liturgy of Saint Basil, with its very, very long anaphora and commemorations, they will continue to recite it while the choir sings the responses (ex. "We praise You, we bless You, we give thanks to You, and we pray to You, O our God!"). Not so for the Ruthenians, who will sing every word aloud as was done in 10th century Constantinople on every Sunday after Pentecost. This ought not be criticized on its own, but it certainly removes the veil of revelation and mystery that accompanies the consecration in the Divine Liturgy, with the calling down of the Holy Spirit behind a curtain and the finalization of the change of the gifts in a manner unseen and unheard until the Sacred Species are brought forth for Holy Communion with the charge "Approach with the fear of God, with faith and with love."
The strangest element of the Ruthenian Divine Liturgy, at least as practiced in the two Ruthenian parishes I have attended in Texas, is that the clergy communicate simultaneously and in a manner that assimilates their Communion with the people's. Normally the celebrant takes the Holy Bread, then any concelebrants, then the deacons receive from the priest and consume the Sacred particle on the south side of the altar; a similar order follows for Communion by the chalice. The Ruthenian rite follows this pattern for Communion of the Holy Bread, but the clergy do not actually eat the Body of Christ until after the congregation has finished the prayer "I believe and confess that You are truly Christ, the Son of the Living God...." Then follows clerical Communion from the Chalice and the people's Communion, albeit preceded by the aforementioned "Approach with the fear of God".
There are other curious elements, like the abbreviation of the antiphons just to include one line of "Through the prayers of the Theotokos, O Savior save us" and "O Son of God, risen from the dead, save us who sing to You, Alleluia" rather than the fuller psalmody. And then there is final blessing, so often rendered as "for He is good and He loves mankind" or "for He is good and the Lover of Mankind." The Ruthenian Church here offers "for Christ is good and He loves us all."
This revision of the Ruthenian liturgy was fairly recent (2006). One hopes that they might re-consider aligning with the norms of the other Greek rite Catholic and Orthodox Churches.
Below is an annual repost with a few pieces of new and interesting material (courtesy of Marco da Vinha).
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Today is the feast of the dedication of the Cathedral of Our Savior, commonly known as the Archbasilica of St. John Lateran, the cathedral of the diocese of Rome and hence the foremost Church in the world. The cathedral has probably been re-built half a dozen times due to fires, earthquakes, and the Avignon papacy, yet some of the original building remains, which traces its origins to the Emperor Constantine. I had re-published an old post showing some pictures I took of the Cathedral during my visit there a few years ago. I think this better than posting images available from the internet because the display the "flow" of the cathedral and lend themselves to an appreciation of the look and scale. At the end I have added a video of the consecration of the FSSP seminary chapel in Nebraska which, although done to the 1962 rite, is textually very close to how the Mass part of the rites would have been done at the Lateran during its several re-consecrations. Happy feast!—one of my favorite of the year.
The image of Christ dominates this great cathedral built in His name
The Archbasilica of Our Savior has also been known as St. John Lateran since Sergius III re-consecrated the building once, adding the patronage of the Evangelist and the Beloved Apostle; the primary patronal feast is the Ascension of Our Lord Jesus Christ. This church is great not so much for its size, grandeur, history, or architecture—although all are quite impressive, but because this church is the cathedral of Rome and, hence, the foremost church in the world. It is the Pope's cathedral, although people often mistake St. Peter's for this honor.
The throne of the Bishop of Rome
Christian worship existed at this location in the southeastern corner of Rome, near the walls of the old City, since the first century, when Ss. Peter and Paul themselves were present there. After Christianity was permitted to crawl out of the Roman woodwork Emperor Constantine began to build several major churches on behalf of the Christians. Contrary to popular opinion, Constantine did not give too much preference to Christianity over paganism during this period. He gave the Church and the Bishop of Rome considerable real estate, like the Lateran Palace, where the popes resided until the reign of Pius IX, but not in prime locations.
The Church of Our Savior eventually became the main seat of the Bishop of Rome due to its proximity to the Lateran Palace. Important stational days during Holy Week—particularly Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Holy Saturday—which are communal in nature take place here. The consecration of the Bishop of Rome, and his coronation as Pope, and special blessings took place at this cathedral, emphasizing the Pope's role as a bishop for the City. During one Maundy Thursday Pope St. Gregory the Great was performing the mandatum (re: foot-washing ceremony) and after washing twelve men's feet and thirteenth appeared. This man's luminous face was described as perfect by the Pope. The man immediately disappeared. St. Gregory concluded it was an angel, or perhaps even Our Lord Himself. This is why in the old Roman rite thirteen men's feet were washed in Maundy Thursday as opposed to the instinctive twelve.
The Cathedral of Our Savior was subjected to barbaric invasions by the Goths in the sixth century, by the Saracens in the ninth century, and earth quakes throughout. By the reign of Sergius III (r. 904-911) the Cathedral had fallen into such disarray it required a re-model, including a new roof. It was re-dedicated by Pope Sergius and given a consecration to Ss. John the Baptist and John the Evangelist, hence its vulgar name "St. John Lateran."
In the late first millennium through the high Middle Ages the Lateran dominated the Latin Church's liturgical understanding of Christian worship as the fulfillment of the Law in light of Calvary. It was the "Mother and Head of all churches in the City and the world", the new Temple. At an altar in the confessio were held several false relics of the Ark of the Covenant and the Rod of Moses, kept mainly for the amusement of pilgrims until better judgment won out and the items were confined to the Lateran's museum, where they still reside to this day.
More intriguing was the Lateran's liturgy for Mandy Thursday, which by the 11th century combined the festive Mass (sung after Terce in the Ordo Romanus I) of the Roman tradition with the penitential Gallican view all under a praxis unique to the Lateran church. According to Bonizo, bishop of Sutri, and Bernardus, the 12th century rector of the Cathedral, Mass was sung at 3PM, after None and in much the same manner as Papal Mass until the papacy of Paul VI. The cardinal bishops of the suffragan sees, along with the cardinal priests and deacons of the major churches, vested for Mass and sat around the Lord Pope in the apse of the cathedral according to rank, with the cardinal bishops on the top row and nearest the Bishop of Rome and the cardinal deacons near the floor. The readings were sung in both Latin and Greek by the Latin and Byzantine monks of the City. At the conclusion of the Nicene Creed, newly introduced to the Roman Church's liturgy at that point, the Mass would come to a full stop and the monks would remove the mensa from the high altar and place it in a cave-like recess at the altar of Saint Pancras, near where the Blessed Sacrament chapel is today in the south transept. The Pope would then process from the apse to the mensa at the chapel of Saint Pancras and show the people assembled a relic containing the Precious Blood, their Communion for the day much as the creeping to the Cross was their Communion on Good Friday. The Lord Pope would then sing Mass alone, without the aid of any cardinals save the cardinal deacons and he alone would communicate the Sacred Species after the Canon (the deacons would communicate later). The parallel was unmistakable: the Pope was the heir to the Apostles in the Lateran, and he partook of Christ's feast, His Sacrifice, and His priesthood in the Upper Room that day.
As in the pre-Pius XII rites of Holy Week, the Mass would stop during the Canon and the Pope would be brought vials of olive oil to hallow. Olive oil recalls the olive branch the dove brought Noah after the Flood, that peace finally followed the purification of Mankind; a similar peace would flow into the catechumens, in the unlikely there were any in that more Christian age, after the living waters of Baptism in two days. Much like the Canon's recitation away from the high altar, the solitude of the consecration of the Holy Oils reflected the Pope's exercise of Christ's priesthood and living transmission of His ministry. Moreover, it mystically rhymed with the Old Testament, when the high priest would enter the Holy of Holies once a year to offer sacrifice for the people. This act was so unique to both the Pope and the Lateran that if either the Pope were unavailable or the Mass had to take place at Saint Peter's Basilica instead the transmission of the mensa was omitted, Mass was celebrated as normal at the high altar, and the oils were presented for consecration on a table behind the altar, exactly as in the Curial and Tridentine books celebrated until 1955.
The Lateran Cathedral as seen from the square
In the first millennium the square in front of the Lateran Cathedral and Palace hosted the election of the Pope. After the death of the previous Pontiff the clergy would gather all Roman citizens, the cardinals (originally the priests and deacons of Rome) would elect nominees from among themselves, and the candidate with the greatest yell from the crowd would be the new Bishop of Rome. In the late first millennium violence often resulted and which faction could gain entrance to the Cathedral, consecrate its candidate, and enthrone him would have the Pope! During the middle ages the Archbasilica hosted five ecumenical councils, the Papal Court, and the public square of Rome. Pope Innocent III famously received St Francis of Assisi here, after first suggesting that the poor saint preach to the pigs in the public market—a suggestion which the saint immediately followed, and also saw the friar holding up the Cathedral, which was crumbling under the sins of the Church.
Pope Benedict XVI enthroned after election
As the Popes moved to Avignon, the Cathedral fell again into disarray and was partially destroyed due to a fire. It was re-modeled during the Renaissance and again during the 18th century, when the statues in the niches were added. Today the Popes still use this great Cathedral for Maundy Thursday, Ascension Thursday, Corpus Christi, pastoral visits, and enthronement after election.
I was blessed by God to be able to visit this awesome place a year and a half ago, whilst in Rome during Lent. My two friends and I, one Catholic and one then-searching, thought the Lateran to be an interesting one hour stop we could make on our way to the Colosseum. We spent five hours in the Lateran and two in the Colosseum.
The facade, a baroque addition, is impressive, but not as impressive as the one gracing St. Mary Major. I was not impressed with the Lateran until I stepped inside. What first struck me was the sheer scale of the place. I have been to St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City several times, a larger church, but less open and hence smaller in scale.
The imposing Cosmatesque floor
My feet were sore from walking the Eternal City in boating shoes, so I ended up dragging the pads of my feet without intending to do so. This had the most spectacular effect. One can feel the texture of the mosaic floor in this Cathedral. Every bump and tile has character to it. History seeps from the ground of this place and the Spirit of God encompasses it. The words of the introit are verily said of this house of God:
Terrible is this place and This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven; and it shall be called the court of God.—Genesis 28:17
We made our way through the various side chapels over the course of an hour or two, before coming to the Chapel of St. Francis of Assisi, shown below. The five piercings on the heart held by the angel simultaneously recall the stigmata of St. Francis and the devotion to the Five Wounds, popular during Francis's time.
The Blessed Sacrament Chapel is next to the Papal Altar. There is a grand tabernacle surrounded by four statues of Popes and crowned with an ethereal image of the patronal feast, the Ascension of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Interestingly the Popes are vested as deacons, indicating that they too are just servants at the altar of the High Priest, Christ. May his holiness, Francis, wear the pontifical dalmatic and find himself in the same self-effacing service as past pontiffs.
In the center of the Cathedral is the Papal Altar, topped by a canopy and reliquary which, although ornamented with busts of St. John the Baptist and John the Evangelist, contains the head of St. Paul. Imagine that almost every Pope from the fourth century has celebrated Mass in this place, surrounded by St. Paul and Our Lord Himself.
The Papal Altar
And the ciborium with the reliquary:
Across from the altar is the great apse of the Cathedral. A massive back wall is topped with gold mosaics containing icons of Our Lord, Our Lady, Ss. John the Baptist and John the Evangelist, and other Biblical figures. One must also recall the organic continuity of this cathedral. Icons of Ss. Francis and Dominic were not-so-deftly inserted at a later time! At the end of a long aisle, containing an organ, balconies for the cantors, and choir stalls for clergy in attendance, is the throne of the Supreme Pontiff:
Beyond the apse is a gift shop. Horrifically, the tomb of Pope Innocent III, the most powerful man of the Middle Ages, is a cross beam for the door frame! How passes the glory of the world!
Something striking about this place is the color in it. The nave is a bland white, as per Italian baroque style for public places, but the sanctuary and other locations from the early Christian era, Middle Ages, and Renaissance is thriving with life and color. Even niches between icons and mosaics were treated as opportunities to paint images, images which literally pop out into a third dimension:
The nave for contrast:
The layout is distinctly Roman, the floor is medieval, the ceiling Renaissance, the chapels Baroque, and place entirely Catholic.
The ceiling is a wonder
The Cathedral's altars, chapels, aisles, and niches are a testament to the on-going effort that is the Gospel of Christ, one held by sinners and saints, which must endure every trial and be maintained and expressed through every age. This aisle towards the entrance contained numerous chapels under renovation.
I will leave on a light note. One of my companions was quite taken with the statues of the twelve Apostles in the nave, which are gargantuan in this size given the scale of the Cathedral. Upon arriving at St. Matthew, my friend decided that since the former tax-collector no longer needed his gold, there was no excuse to let is sit unused.
Gimme!
Lastly, across from the Lateran Cathedral is the Scala Sancta, the Holy Stairs from Pilate's palace. Christ was tried atop these steps and descended them to take up His Cross for us. One may only ascend these steps on one's knees. More on them another time....
Canticum Salomonis has two interesting articles on the neo-Gallican ("Jansenist" was never an accurate generalization) liturgies for November 2 and the contrast between the rationalistic French rites and the organic Roman tradition. The latter's unique features, explored in the second article, were clear influences in the 1911-3 reforms to the Breviary's psalter throughout the year and especially the unique November 2 Office.
Conservatism has many meanings, the most arrant being the definition derived from the word itself, that certain things, ideas, and institutions are worth conserving in the vicissitudes of change that flow through life. The difficulty conservatives often face, regardless of their stripes, is that more often than not they are trying to keep scattered items of the past without believing in anything specific that bears down on contemporary issues. In short, conservatives are often too practical about what they want to keep and not innately idealistic enough about a vision for society as it exists now.
There are rare exceptions to this lamentable conservatism. American conservatism was successful in the late 20th century on the heels of an idealistic base built by William Buckley, Russell Kirk, Whitaker Chambers etc. They slowly built an alliance over the course of a generation that capture the presidency and the Congress for the following generation, an opportunity which the custodians of those institutions occasionally made good use of, but not always.
Another type of conservative exists, too. This type is perhaps the rarest and also the most curious kind of a conservative, the kind that wishes to preserve things which they themselves do not believe or make use of, yet they heartfeltly appreciate these ideas and institutions much more than even their own devotees do. An earlier example of this may have been George Santayana, a Spaniard raised on the values of old world Catholicism who, in the age of Darwin and progressive eugencists, embraced Greek materialism with a modern twist. To the end he lived in a monastery and called himself an "aethetic Catholic", defending the concept of natural aristocracy and choice against determinism and a coldly evolving society, ideas which reflected his own life choices more than his beliefs.
A more modern example would be Jordan Peterson, whose surging popularity in the last year descends from his twin talents for calm responses to angry questions and his non-dogmatic, personal way of addressing actual problems people face in life. Peterson routinely expresses positive views about masculinity in the age of #MeToo, religion in a post-religious time, and stable households with a mother and father when the "nuclear family" is more or less the exception. For all his contributions and good points, Peterson is one of these deracinated conservatives, a proponent of "Western Civilization", what was once called Christendom, but still falls into the occasional trap of expounding traditional values because they are valuable, not because they are right. Like Santayana and the Adams brothers decades ago, Peterson's secularism allows him to see the Church, the Christian mindset, the Christian family, suffering, and the Genesis origin story as things of importance and things to be preferred to this day's alternative, but he himself does not hold them.
In the age of Bergoglio I see in my own parish, on this blog, and across the internet various people falling into this sort of exceptional conservatism, trying so very hard to retain things they can while their own relation to those things is denuded. Nature abhors a vacuum, and what is often left in the gap of the person is a lingering bitterness that tends towards a vacillating belief. This is not the age to be a conservative, much less this sort of deracinated conservative that clings to things which no longer "work" for them.
Supposedly there was a synod of some sort in Rome recently about young people. I have no idea what they discussed and I absolutely do not care. At all. Far from burying our heads in the sand, Catholics today must do whatever keeps their heads clear and close to the Church, the continuing presence of Christ on earth. That doesn't mean saying prayers; it means prayer, which is something much harder. For this individual, staying close to the Church means calmly and prudently saying the Office, making time to read the New Testament or a Church Father daily, and keeping an equilibrated approach to the turbulence of life. It also means steering clear of political views of the Church or the temptation of ideology, which thwarted any great love of the Liturgy until I came upon the Eastern Churches (and I am a better Roman for it).
This is the challenge for Catholics today, as my co-writer alluded to last month, to find a way to come out of our distractions intact. We must build upon the corner-stones of the faith rather than grasp with white knuckles at what we hope we will be permitted to keep.
In the following article I shall endeavor to make a case for the public re-introduction of the pre-1962 Roman liturgy, both Mass and Office, from the perspective of Ecclesiastical law. First, I will specify what I mean by the pre-1962 liturgy. Then I will explore the concepts of abrogation, reprobation, custom, and the competing concepts of law present in the Tridentine decrees and the 1983 CIC.
Part I: Defining the Old Rite
By the "old rite" in the context of this blog I generally mean the Roman liturgy as it existed at the dawn of the 20th century, prior to the textual reductions of Pius X and John XXIII to the Office, the ceremonial changes of Pius XII to Holy Week, the vitiations of the kalendar, and the festive ranking system.
A few posts ago, when discussing Msgr. Schneider's comments on the un-reformed Breviary, a commenting reader asked, presumably in derision, why not go beyond Trent? Why not re-introduce medieval sequences and see how far back into history we can transport ourselves. For the purposes of this article we will confine ourselves to the liturgical books promulgated at Trent and in use in the Latin Church, excepting for local tradition, until John XXIII. Consequently, this includes the typical editions published by Pius X, Pius XII, and early in the life of Papa Roncalli.
The reason for this is that arguments about Canon Law must be reasonable. Canon Law is not very like modern secular law of the Common Law tradition, whereby established precedents and judicial decisions from prior times guide our contemporary interpretation of law. Additionally, the Codex is not a sacred book in the way law is sacred and uplifting to quotidian society. It is a rule book for governing holy things rather than the holy thing itself; in this it is subject to criticism and historical contrast, but it cannot be interpreted to mean anything other than what it plainly says, the very strange case of the FSSPX not withstanding.
The "Tridentine" liturgy neatly comports to this argument because its use is reasonable in that it is practical, something that could be done without resorting to medieval commentaries, reproducing long lost manuscripts, or resurrecting long dead cultures that used these traditions. The Tridentine liturgy, so named, was ratified by both an ecumenical council and an indefinitely (not the same as eternally) binding papal decree; it was built upon ancient custom and crystallized according to the highest standards of Church law: general episcopal ascent and the judgment of the pope in unison.
"Reasonable", in canonical terms, generally means compelling or necessary, but in the context of someone asking for something it could also mean practical. In this, the Tridentine liturgy, up to '62, is also "reasonable" in that it could be revived without extravagant effort. Before Summorum Pontificum there were enough Missals from which the 1962 Mass could be derived, but most Missals seem to be more recent prints. The older liturgy is accessibly easily enough through the same existing books, older books which can be found with little effort for purchase, and even smaller scale re-printing which one hopes might expand to a larger base.
Legally, a distinction must be adumbrated concerning the Tridentine Office and the Divino Afflatu scheme. In the penultimate paragraph of the aforementioned document Pius X explicitly suppresses the immemorial psalter and declares those who violate his new schema will incur the wrath of Ss. Peter and Paul. This issue will be addressed when we discuss abrogation and its place in law below. Otherwise, there are no such statements in subsequent 20th century liturgical reforms that openly repeal the existing forms, they merely introduce new ones with the assumption clergy will adapt them.
Part II: The Place of Custom
When a liturgical tradition has textual and practical continuity for over a millennium the most immediately obvious canonical precedent is that of custom. Custom in the common parlance means common or habitual practice, but also unwritten law. The Angelic Doctor's own words about "custom" in the Summa, II.97, form the basis for the canonical understanding of custom and, in many respects, are a more complete understanding of Ecclesiastical custom than what is in the current Codex.
Saint Thomas discusses custom in a larger question about whether human laws should be changed and how. In article 2 the Common Doctor observes that "the binding power of the law is diminished, in so far as custom is abolished." More broadly, he means that custom is one with the law and that to change custom is to change law, written or unwritten. Just as Divine Law proceeds from the "reasonable will of God," so Human Law proceeds from the "will of man, regulated by reason." Thomas presumably pauses from calling Man's will "reasonable" because it is not always reasonable, but can be tempered by reason; along a similar vein a great deal of what men do is habitual, not intentional, making those habits inapplicable to law and custom.
As a basis for the rest of his answer, Aquinas adduces St. Augustine's views on Christian custom having the force of Divine Law:
"The customs of God's people and the institutions of our ancestors are to be considered as laws. And those who throw contempt on the customs of the Church ought to be punished as those who disobey the law of God."
Law is normative, but for Thomas man-made law is also fungible, even Ecclesiastical law. The repetition of external action in union with interior will forms a reasonable custom from which law derives and which has the power to alter law.
"Wherefore by actions also, especially if they be repeated, so as to make a custom, law can be changed and expounded; and also something can be established which obtains force of law, in so far as by repeated external actions, the inward movement of the will, and concepts of reason are most effectually declared; for when a thing is done again and again, it seems to proceed from a deliberate judgment of reason. Accordingly, custom has the force of a law, abolishes law, and is the interpreter of law."
If liturgical historians ever wanted a tight definition of "organic development" they would find it in Thomas's above words. Like administrative law, liturgical norms gain structure, substance, and interpretation through custom.
Part III: Codex Iuris Canonici MCMLXXXIII
Modern Canon Law, according to the 1983 Codex, makes provision for existing customs and the intentional creation of new customs. Canons 23-28 deal with the erection of customs; intentional customs must:
not violate Divine Law
be introduced to a "community of faithful" capable of receiving it under its legislative head
not violate current Canon Law (unless it has been used for thirty years or holds the force of immemorial custom)
The old Mass and Office certainly do not violate Divine Law, unless all of those Counter-Reformation Saints were as legitimately canonized as Papa Montini.
It is the second of these points that is most critical to understand, that a custom must prevail upon a "community of faithful" capable of receiving it under its legislative head, whoever that happens to be. A custom cannot be a private practice. If a parish priest, for example, were to come upon a Pius IX era Breviary and wish to say it, he really would not carry the force of custom if he were only to use this Office privately. He would, however, have legitimate access to it if he celebrates Mass, whenever he celebrates the pre-Conciliar rites, according to the same rubrics, kalendar, and commemorations; the same would apply for any public celebration of the Office. John Beal's commentary on the Code goes on to remark that a custom must be stable and an intentional norm for a community. There can be no variation, optionality, or mixing-and-matching; otherwise a custom is not realized. This is critical, as custom, both canonically and Scholastically, have the force of Law because they govern popular behavior and belief as much as Law if not more. If it is not "popular" then it cannot be a custom, just a personal habit.
Who is the legislator or canonical authority for such a decision? Presumably the head of a "community of faithful" as envisioned by the Law, be it an Abbot in a monastery, a Mother Superior in a convent, the parish pastor, or a bishop, should one wish to expand orthopraxis.
With respect to the old liturgy there is the issue of the abrogation of the Roman Psalter by Pius X, which could seemingly end conversation about a liturgical revival, at least of the full blown Latin rite. This is not necessarily the case. In his New Commentary on the Code of Canon Law, Beal observes that the canons regarding custom suppress "reprobated" custom, which is not the same as abrogated custom—custom administratively suppressed, but not something inherently wrong. He goes on to observe that abrogated customs could be legitimized again, whereas a reprobated custom is one that violates Divine Law, morals, or the liberty of the Church.
The Tridentine Office does exist contrary to modern Law. It also enjoys immemorial custom in every sense of the word. One can pinpoint its official publications and typical editions after the Council of Trent, but its contents reach back centuries and its essentials far beyond that. Indeed, most of it is so very old that no one could really say when its specific contents started. Along the same lines, it met canonical abrogation, but simultaneously enjoys the highest state of approval possible, that of a pope in union with an ecumenical council and the full force of custom. Its revival would be contrary to the current force of liturgical norms, but would, simultaneously, be quite legal in virtue of its "reasonable" nature, the ability of a community of faithful to receive it under the correct authority, and its immemorial precedent.
In short, Pius X, and potentially Pius XII, suppressed the old rite, yet the 1983 Codex provides for immemorial custom to be reasonable enough to contravene existing law and for new custom to be imposed on those who would receive it.
Part IV: Greater Concepts of Law
Canon Law's recognition of custom reminds us of an opening point of this short article, which is that while the Codex cannot be read as saying anything other than what it does (ex. Archbishop Lefebvre rejecting the 1983 CIC altogether), it is not the only source or end of law in the Church. In fact, the general idea of Canon Law today has a very different tone from the medieval decretals from which is derives. Canon Law, both in the 1917 and 1983 forms, comes across as prescriptive, whereas the older outlook was that law is proscriptive and protective. Custom and stability give form to Law itself, which must be stable. Any system of law that changes at a whim debases the authority of the law giver.
Before Canon Law, at still embedded in the general outlook of Catholics and of the Councils we are bound to believe, custom and canons reign supreme, both of which are protective and proscriptive by nature. In our case, Pius V confirmed the Roman rite in the interest of perpetuating its use, not dictating what it is. In light of this plain fact, we can apply Saint Thomas's statement on the legal force of custom—and the Summa was placed on the altar, beside the Gospels, at Trent—guides our outlook on all Church law.
This more ancient and more universal outlook on law and custom resides in the very document which began the question of pre-Conciliar forms, Summorum Pontificum. Upon its issuance in 2007 many understandably raised their motu proprio copies in the air and screamed the old fashioned Traditionalist bromide "Never abrograted." How Michael Davies would have loved to see that day!
The passage of time has discovered another far more illuminating and enduring phrase within Summorum, that "What earlier generations held as sacred, remains sacred and great for us too, and it cannot be all of a sudden entirely forbidden or even considered harmful."
Concluding Thoughts
The historic concept of Canon Law, omnipresent in councils and theology, is that law derives from custom and should custom be stable, it gives guidance to the understanding and interpretation of law. In no greater point is this more apparent than in the older Roman liturgy as it existed after Trent, which passed on what had been understood as the Roman rite and which tangibly, firmly continued to be the Roman rite for centuries. Modern Canon Law accommodates for both the introduction of custom and the use of immemorial custom, even if contrary to abrogation. Under this aegis, the leader of a Catholic community could reasonably revive use of the old rite if he did in fact intend to do so as a custom, that is, as the normal way of practicing the old Mass and Office in a given place.
Fathers, let go of apprehensions and buy a Ordo for the old Ordo. Get out of the folded chasubles or have them made. Embrace the old liturgy as a custom, both of the past and the future.
Josias was the last good king of the southern Kingdom of Judah, the last before the pagan empire of Babylon humbled the chosen people who had so often wandered off to worship strange gods. During his reign the high priest Helcias informed Josias that he had found something odd in the Temple: a book of the law of Moses which had been lost for a very great time. Having heard the book read aloud, Josias tore his garments and begged forgiveness for the many offenses against God. To which a prophetess responded that God would still punish Judah for its many crimes, but he would hold onto his wrath until after the king's death.
Dauntless, Josias made good on his repentance and turned his people as thoroughly towards the worship of God as possible. He made his officers hear the law and swear fealty to it. He cast the Baal-worshipers out of the Temple and burned the demon-god's sacred tree to ashes. He defiled every hill shrine dedicated to the host of heaven. He destroyed the houses of the sodomites near the Temple.
He desecrated the high places of Solomon, the son of David; those shrines the wisest man who ever lived had set up for the worship of Astaroth, Chamos, and Melchom. For hundreds of years these had remained in Jerusalem, offending God and his angels with the stench of their polluted sacrifices. Imagine if temples to Odin and Jupiter had been used in the courtyard of St. Peter's Basilica throughout the ages of Christendom. Imagine they had been built by a pope.
There was no king before him like unto him, that returned to the Lord with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength, according to all the law of Moses. Neither after him did there arise any like him. (4 Kings xxiii)
But his son Joachaz did the same evil as his ancestors. God was so displeased with the son of Josias that he was permitted to reign only three months, and died in captivity to the Pharaoh of Egypt.
Clearly the hearts of the people were always straying towards wickedness, and it took a king of massive will to hold their evil in check and force them to follow the Mosaic ceremonies. Catholics have far more sources and opportunities for grace than did the ancient Hebrews, but we still stray the moment our bishops allow it. How many Catholic laity do we know who approve of contraception or perverse marriages? How many were ready to follow the world into damnation the moment the bishops stopped holding them back from the brink?
Josias is a figure of repentance, a symbol of the destruction of evil in our souls. We may live for years in ignorance of God's will, but once we learn it we must swiftly repent and obey. We must root out all the sins of our fathers, die to our selves, and desecrate the idolatrous altars with the bones. This must happen regardless of the great momentum of God's displeasure against the people, because we can at least save ourselves and those few who follow with us. It does not matter how many of our forefathers were wicked or lukewarm; that is no excuse for us. Josias was like the only important one of his ancestors, the man after God's own heart.
The suffrages of the various saints in the old Divine Office are rarely treated in histories of the liturgy. Gregory Dix and Pierre Battifol make no mention of them. Perhaps Jungmann does, but I am not familiar enough with his scholarship to recall off hand. Yet these intercessions to the Saints were present in the Lauds and Vespers of the Roman rite for nearly a millennium, as stationary and consistent as the antiphons on the psalms themselves.
Devotion to the Saints entered the regular aspects of the liturgy some time between the reign of Gregory the Great and the reforming pontificate of Gregory VII. In the 9th and 10th centuries monks began to dedicate ferial, non-Lenten Saturdays to Our Lady. At the same time demand for additional Requiem Masses birthed the "private" Mass, that is, an additional Mass not specifically required by the liturgy of the day (in contrast to days where the liturgy traditionally does demand numerous Masses, like the Roman rite on Christmas or the pre-Byzantine rites of Jersualem on Pascha). Votive Masses of the Saints came some time later, but from the same popular desire for liturgical devotion. Early chapters of Duffy's Stripping of the Altars has some fascinating discussion of the evolution of votive Mass texts, mainly by means of priests guiding the benefactors through what sort of readings might be most appropriate and even efficacious for a Saint.
It might be safe to say the Suffrages date to around this time, some era shortly after the Gregorian reforms cemented the place of Gallican influences in the Roman liturgy, including Gallican monastic influences. This last point ought not be overlooked. When Saint Peter Damian visited Cluny, sure the monks were slacking on their vows by wearing habits of the daily liturgical color and feasting on huge meals, he was exhausted after participating in several days of their common life, which included the full daily Office, the Office of the Dead, the Office of the Blessed Virgin, and the Office of All the Saints, some ten hours in choro plus the day's Mass and any potential private Masses.
The texts of the Suffrages relate more to the votive Offices of the Middle Ages than they do to the older feasts of the Saints. For example, the collect for Our Lady is that of Vespers in the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, not that of any generally celebrated Latin feasts of the Virgin, the Assumption, the Nativity of the Virgin, or the Annunciation. Similarly, the collect for Ss. Peter and Paul is that of the votive Mass of those two Apostles, not that of their feast, although the votive Mass is remarkably similar to that of their Octave day, which presents and "chick or the egg" question about which came first. It would seem possible, if not probable, that the Suffrages were initially instituted as means of honoring Saints on days when their greater veneration was impeded by the presence of Sunday.
Lastly, in the Tridentine Office the Suffrages were sung in choro and kneeling. Was it always like this? Or were the Suffrages sung in the manner of other antiphons prior to Mattins or Mass, that is, as "stations" within the church? Would the antiphons Sancta Maria be sung in procession to the chapel of the Virgin followed by the aforementioned collect from the Little Office? Perhaps readers can chime in on this final point.
