Really, what does a person with a learning disability, much less one who doesn’t have access to Fr Z’s blog do?
In the nineties, I first started to hear—infrequently, happily—of things that had been closed down because they couldn’t be made wheelchair-accessible. Sometimes it was a business, sometimes an historic building or attraction of some kind. You still hear of it happening sometimes—the code demands that it must be handicapped-accessible, it can’t be made so, and an exception won’t be granted. The result is that everyone is poorer.
And I remember thinking to myself from the very first time that the people who would sooner close an attraction from everyone than have anyone excluded were really terrible human beings.
Like Simon Hughes, they “would rather have the poor poorer, provided that the rich were less rich.” The essence of inclusiveness is to make things accessible to the disabled where possible; but to take that further—to say that if all cannot experience it as fully as anyone else, then no one shall—is a heckler’s veto at best and Harrison Bergeron at worst.
And so it is here. Can your position really be that we should never expand our liturgical horizons beyond the vision of the lowest common denominator? If so, we can look forward to a Mass with all the sacrality and intellectual heft of local newspapers and evening news broadcasts.
Incidentally, my remark about Fr. Zuhlsdorf was somewhat tongue-in-cheek (although his site is a terrific resource), but my curiosity is piqued: how would one both have access to this website yet not to his?
In the Catholic Church, the individual believer is not abandoned to his own devices, left to pray only in the ways of which he can conceive with his own mind.
From this, I guess you don’t understand contemplative prayer. When we pray, we turn to God who dwells within. In the presence of God, my mental words to God are in my own language as His are to me.
You are presuming a false dichotomy.
Oh, I’ve attended more than a few times. In fact, not only was I raised in Pre-Vatican II Church, but over the past 15 years, I’ve attended Mass frequently at a Benedictine Monastery, where they sing in Gregorian Chant. However, its distracting watching these nuns and especially the monks labor through some of the hymns in Latin.
How is it “distracting”?
And if “anything distracting must go” is the rule, we need to talk about dress codes at Mass.
Here’s a question, though. If you’ve been a Catholic for a while, you know the novus ordo Mass pretty well, right? You might not be able to recite it along with the priest without looking down at the text, but you know the structure, and the prayers do not land on you unanticipated. Now suppose you go overseas on business, and attend (as you should, if you stay for a Sunday) a novus ordo Mass in a language you don’t know. Are you entirely lost? Or do you know exactly where you are?
Well, when I visited the Religious Shrines of France, back in 1998, I attended Mass everyday and almost all of them were in French. I had no problem understanding where we were in the Mass. The words were in my own mind in English, as the English version of the NO is pretty well implanted into my memory. It wasn’t a distraction, but nothing Latin would solve.
So after all that, you’ve basically conceded my point!
Agreed, same is true for Mass in the vernacular. Just because there are some who have abused the Mass, doesn’t mean the vernacular is the cause.
I agree with this, so far as it goes, but most priests lack the fluency in latin to improvise. The greater source of abuse isn’t the vernacular, but the
attitude of certain people in the postconciliar Church, who seem to have generalized the council into a fictitious “spirit” and concluded that they had all-but free license to indulge themselves. You wouldn’t have seen liturgical dance in the preconciliar liturgy, and that’s not because it was in latin: it’s because of the
attitude of the Church at that time. It wouldn’t have occurred to people to engage in that kind of abuse.
(That’s not to say that the Tridentine Mass can’t be abused, of course; I tend to think that barreling through it as if it’s the only thing standing between you and lunch is abuse, too, which happened then and still happens now, on occaision.)