His careful use of the corporal, the closed hold of his fingers on the Host from conversion to purification, on the paten and in administering Holy Eucharist in the mouth -- here, it was clear that no one needed to explain the Real Presence. From these many gestures and signs, that the Body of Christ was really and truly in the Host was abundantly clear to anyone attending this Mass.
I remember thinking that the form followed the content of our Faith totally in these actions. Only much later did I come across the concept of lex orandi lex credendi; that is, the notion that "the law of prayer determines the law of faith“ and therefore that one’s external actions shape one’s inner attitude.
I was equally impressed by the Traditional Rite’s common orientation in prayer. That is, the traditional rite does not make the priest the center of the action -- though to be fair there are many priests who do not seek this center stage. Instead, his place is almost akin to that of the head of a procession in a village feast.
Finally, there was plenty of silence, especially in the central part of the Mass where we are called really to pray with the celebrant. I was also delighted to find that my private prayer was no longer seemingly an affront to others – something to be "talked to death.“ The Holy One was the focus of this Mass, not the person of the priest, nor the performances of amateur liturgists.
Here, I felt spiritually secure and at home. Over time, I came to love the liturgy more and more, despite the fact that traditional Masses at that time were hard to find for me, and indeed for anyone in Germany. For me, this liturgy touches my interior life, something I can hardly put into words. Perhaps it is the experience of what we call "grace.“
Over the years, I often wondered why Catholics were not permitted to attend both liturgies. The de facto ban on the traditional rite irritated me, the more so because pretty much everything else in what one could term liturgical "peculiarity“ was allowed and indeed encouraged.
For example, I’m somewhat chagrined to report that the seminary of the diocese of Trier – an important Catholic community since the time of the Romans – organized what was billed as a "techno worship“ to celebrate the Millenium Year 2000. The concluding "hymn“ of this "Mass“ was a German Idol hit for that year entitled "No Angels," performed in the presence of the Bishop and diocesan clergy. (You will forgive me if I use an American phrase here: “You can’t make this stuff up.“)
Liturgically speaking, in Germany everything seemed possible. The single exception to this rule was any request to allow the traditional liturgy. This was treated as if it were indecent and, indeed, reprehensible.
Basilica of SS Dionysius and Valentinus
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