Yes, I really am flabbergasted that some are saying that Vatican II tried to deal with–as in intended to get rid of–the problems of modernity. I mean that sincerely. That, to me, seems exactly the opposite of what it was intended to do and also what it actually did. No, I don’t think that Vatican II intended to stroke the modern world’s ego and actively tried to make the problems of the modern world worse; but in practice I cannot come to any other conclusion than, that is exactly what it “intended” to do if we look at the Council itself apart from whatever the personal intentions of the Council Fathers alone or collectively were. I mean, I might be able to understand this line of thinking given the era, but in the end I sincerely think it is just so very short-sighted to think, “Well, if we just adapt to the modern world, the problems of the modern world will go away.” Well, no, they won’t. That is quite outrageous to me.
Well, one must give them the benefit of the doubt.
Look at the Church, and especially the Mass, in, say, the 1950s. The main differences are that the Church emphasized its otherworldliness more effectively. The Mass emphasized the ontological superiority of the priesthood and the centrality of the Eucharist. No one would’ve mistaken it for anything like what you encounter in ordinary experience: you went to Mass not for community but to swim in the sea of perfection.
Now there is a possible world where choosing to de-emphasize that otherworldliness would’ve made sense. For instance, a world where Catholic ghettoization is actively contributing to their own persecution (or their spontaneously persecuting others), where Eucharistic adoration has gone to such extremes that people neglect their other duties, where Catholic families send all their sons to seminary and fertility begins to drop precipitously, etc. In such a world, something like Vatican II would make sense. Something like the Novus Ordo, with its decision to downplay the importance of the priest, would make sense. Abrogating the TLM would make sense and forcing people to attend Novus Ordo Masses only would make sense. But it’s clear to me that the preconciliar age was not such a world, so these moves simply did not make sense.
Which means we are dealing not with doctrinal errors but with prudential ones. This is the only way I can understand Vatican II and its consequences. It cannot be heretical as the sedes think because it taught nothing new. It just tried to adopt new strategies. Those strategies can be said to have failed without reflecting on the Church’s doctrinal authority. Its guarantees from God are fairly limited: it won’t teach error. It has no guarantee that, in any particular time, it will teach the truth as well as it could or ought to.
The outward “form” of the Church, given our human limitations, is almost as important to us on a psychological level as the inner contents of the faith are to our souls. This is essentially what I have been trying to argue all along. “We don’t need ______: Latin, vestments, beautiful churches, priests in distinctive and maybe even weird attire, sisters in habits, popular devotions galore, holy cards, etc.” I hear that all the time. But, we do! need those things. These are what make us able to identify as a group. These form the corpus of our outward identity, that is, they are what visibly bind us together AND, on another level, they are the outward eccentricities that make the first step in evangelization–to pique the interest of a non-Catholic–so much easier.
One of Hegel’s key insights, and pretty much the only one worth retaining, is that the way people perceive reality is as important a fact as the way reality objectively is. It’s not enough for a political authority, for instance, to have a legitimate claim to rule. It must be *known *to have a legitimate claim. Peter Drucker wrote about the loss of visible legitimacy in prewar societies as being one of the main contributors to the rise of fascism and the start of World War II. My conversion to Catholicism was prefigured by my readings of both of them.
Up until Vatican II the Church was intentionally set up in such a way as to present those truths readily to the senses, especially for those who didn’t have the sophistication to see it otherwise. Hence big, beautiful, ornate churches. Hence fancy vestments. Hence Latin and chant: all prefigurations of Heaven.
St. Peter, at the gates of Heaven: “Are you ready for this?”
Rescued soul: “Oh, I’ve been here before.”
What we have now are crummy wooden and brick churches shaped like circus tents, priests with austere or rainbow chasubles, vapid homilies that put people to sleep, etc. Does this prefigure Heaven? Maybe, if Heaven looks like a Pier 1 Imports in uptown Boston. What it looks like, really, is the world. Dark. Boring. Unappealing. Unmysterious. Utterly stripped of its sacral appearance.
I don’t disagree. But this absolutist way of looking at it utterly rejects our human psychological dependence on outward and perceivable identity.
Every Protestant should consider Catholicism because of Jesus? Really, okay, tell one that and he will say, “I already have Jesus.”
My entire argument is completely dependent on, is a slave to, Christ. It works from the point of view of a strong community identity. We don’t bring Christ to people by wishing for it. We do it with a genuine smile, kindness, Mass/prayer intentions and a strong identity.
God gave us senses for a reason, and if we are totally ordered to Christ, then our senses should be totally ordered to His Church.
It’s actually a bit worse of a sentiment than you let on.
There is a very disturbing and unsettling tendency in conciliar enthusiasts to try to sort out X as some “bare minimum” of the Catholic faith and then declare everything else, not-X, as extraneous or irrelevant. Usually they are not wrong when they say X is the bare minimum, but where they go wrong is seeing not-X as addenda rather than the logical fulfillment of X.
For instance, I am a man. If I lost my legs, I’d still be a man – legs are nonessential to manhood. It doesn’t follow, though, that my legs are irrelevant to me, or that I should get rid of them, or that I’d not be terribly impoverished or even be better off without them. None of these things are reasonable to believe. I may not
need legs to be a man, but they are the logical fulfillment of my being a man. I may not need them but I am vastly worse off without them. You are right to point out that this is essentially a Protestant sensibility. Its the reductionism that gave us sola scriptura.
So no, vestments and Latin and incense and rosaries and chant, etc., are not the core of the Catholic faith. But whoever believed they were? Rather they were logical expressions of certain soteriological truths; they presented those truths to the senses in a way that it is more easily recognizable. Getting rid of them has not made X more visible, it has obscured our vision of X. Again, we only need to look at its fruits to know it. People are falling away from the faith in catastrophic numbers. The priesthood is disgraced by scandal after scandal. Vocations are only now starting to pick up, and I suspect only because the economy is imploding like a dying star. Catechesis is worthless where it is not actively malicious. Most people are ignorant even of the basic truths of their own faith. What we have seen is really the willful debasement of our stores of knowledge of the Catholic faith, for… what, exactly? Is this “for Jesus”? If the apparition of Our Lady at Akita is trustworthy, He’s not happy.
This sort of sentiment reminds me of something I was reading a while back, about how sophisticated elite leftists intentionally debased and destroyed marriage, the traditional family, and the virtues that sustained both so that they could gratify their own lusts without consequence. Because of their own intelligence and resources, they were largely insulated from the catastrophe they loosed on the rest of society, which lacks those advantages and which became riven with broken homes, neglect, and abandonment. As it turns out, some (very very few) people do well without these structures and virtues in place, but the vast majority suffer, being unable to make things work without them. I wonder if a similar thing is going on here, if the epistemic chaos, ambiguity, and obscurantism that has been loosed intentionally in the Church is intended to benefit a narrow class of Catholic elites (extremely sophisticated theologians, for instance, who are alone able to make sense of the mess), even at the expense of the vast majority of the laity and even the priestly orders whom this nonsense is actively hurting.