Introibo ad altare Dei – “I will go up to the altar of God.” For centuries this was the way every Mass began, invoking the beautiful Psalm 42, the Judica me, a Psalm of deliverance and praise. “Judge me O God and plead my cause against an ungodly nation; deliver me from the unjust and sinful man, For you are my God and my strength… Send forth your light and your truth; they have led me and brought me to your holy mountain, and to your tabernacle.”

Before approaching the sacred space in those dark, pre-Vatican II days, priest and servers would humbly pray at the foot of the altar, confessing their sins in the Confiteor and begging God’s mercy, pardon, and absolution. Only then would the priest ascend the steps to the altar even as he entreated God, “Take away from us our iniquities, we implore thee, Lord, that with pure minds we may worthily enter into the holy of holies: through Christ Our Lord, Amen.” Foremost in the former Mass ritual was the sense of man’s unworthiness and abject humility before God, for what priest and people were about to enter into was the most profound worship of the infinite, all powerful Godhead. This supreme act of adoration entailed man’s most solemn duty toward his Creator and Savior, and so one had to carefully prepare oneself carefully before performing it.

In the wake of Vatican II those prayers at the foot of the altar as well as many other Mass prayers were suppressed, ostensibly to make this, the highest prayer of the Church, “more understandable” to the faithful. With the introduction of the so called Novus Ordo or New Mass in 1970 even more prayers from the Sacred Liturgy disappeared. Today, with no utterance of preparatory prayer, the priest boldly processes without pause up to the altar itself, then begins the Mass not by addressing God, but rather the people. “The grace and peace of God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you.” He may even add a little chit chat or introduce various guests. In any event the priest’s initial dialogue is clearly directed not towards God but to the assembly. The emphasis has shifted from the once humble reverence and piety prerequisite to approaching the Divine (“Moses, take off your sandals, for the ground on which you are standing is holy ground”) to a self-congratulatory, gee, it’s great we all showed up to engage in our little tea party with God.

If one can mentally tune out the tambourines and cheesy anthems, and despite a truncated Confetior recited standing, not on one’s knees, the Mass proceeds tolerably through the Gospel. (Though homilies are generally hit-or miss propositions.) Finally we arrive at the sacred core of the Mass or the Liturgy of the Eucharist. This begins with the Offertory. At this point the Novus Ordo begins to veer off on a decidedly humanist tangent. For instance, in the older rite the priest reverently blessed and offered the bread in these words, “Receive, Holy Father, almighty and eternal God, this spotless host which I, your unworthy servant, offer you, my living and true God, for my own countless sins, transgressions, and failings; for all here present and for all faithful Christians, living and deceased, that it may avail both me and them unto salvation in eternal life. Amen” Contrast that elegant, humble invocation with its banal replacement. “Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread to offer, which earth has given and human hands have made. It will become for us the bread of life.”

After an abridged version of the prayer said as water and wine are co-mingled the same pedestrian tone resumes, “Blessed are you Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this wine to offer, fruit of the vine and work of human hands. It will become our spiritual drink.” Contrast this blase prattle with its refined, graceful predecessor, “We offer you the chalice of salvation Lord, imploring your mercy that it may be as a sweet fragrance before your divine majesty for our salvation and that of the whole world.” Notice how in the newer rite it’s all about us, “the work of human hands,” and getting our little bit of credit lest God doesn’t notice our efforts. After this, the once meek and inspired invocation of the Holy Spirit is completely dismissed. “Come, almighty Sanctifier and ever living God, and bless this sacrifice prepared for the glory of your holy name.” Could it be that the inclusion of the word “sacrifice” sounded too ‘Catholic’ for ecumenical ears and so it had to go?

As the priest washes his fingers he once prayed Psalm 25, the Lavabo, which has now entirely disappeared. “I will wash my hands in innocence, and encompass your altar, Lord, That I may hear the sound of your praise, and recount all your wondrous deeds. Lord, I have loved the beauty of your house, and the place where your glory dwells. O God, take not my soul away with the wicked, nor my life with men of blood, Their hands are stained with crimes, and their right hand filled with bribes. But as for me, I have walked in innocence; redeem me and have mercy on me. My foot stood in the right path, in the assemblies I will praise you Lord. Gloria Patri, etc.” The replacement for that profound expression of King David’s filial dependence on God’s mercy is a functional one liner borrowed from Psalm 51, “Lord, wash away my iniquity; cleanse me from my sin.”

There is no time here to go into the optional substitution of the time honored Roman Canon, going back to apostolic times, with a series of optional “Eucharistic Prayers” which most priests now use almost exclusively. The least uplifting is the scandalously abbreviated Eucharistic Prayer II, freshly minted for the new liturgy by a reputed Freemason, Archbishop Annibale Bugnini, and his liturgical cohorts who conveniently forgot to include that scary word ‘sacrifice’ anywhere in the text. Eucharistic Prayer II jumps into the words of institution so suddenly that the consecration may be well in progress before the echo of pew kneelers slamming down has died away. Yet because of its utilitarian brevity, this mundane, dispirited Canon has, unfortunately, become the default choice of those time constrained celebrants overly eager to expedite the Mass.

After the Our Father the Libera Nos, “Deliver us, O Lord,” is prayed by the priest. Unfortunately this beautiful prayer has been vulgarly pruned of its former, “intercession of the blessed and glorious Mary ever Virgin, Mother of God, and of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, and Andrew, and of all the saints.” Apparently invocation of the Blessed Mother and the saints in the Mass might be overly offensive to Protestant ears and so such references needed to be toned down if not altogether eliminated. Instead an awkward kiss of peace was interjected at the very moment when the faithful are called to interior recollection before receiving Holy Communion. This ensuing communal brouhaha replaced yet another short but profound prayer, “May this mingling and consecration of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ avail us who receive it to everlasting life. Amen,” deleted no doubt to allow more time for hugging and kissing.

Even before the hubbub from the kiss of peace has died down the celebrant launches into the Agnus Dei. Inexplicably the rubrics instruct the faithful to remain standing even as they recite this tripartite prayer steeped in humility. However, this is also the precise moment that the priest or deacon usually retrieves any reserved consecrated hosts from the tabernacle, processing with them to the altar, and yet not one knee in the entire church is bent. In theory at this moment the priest prays the prayer Domine Jesu Christe, Fili Dei, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, by the will of the Father and the work of the Holy Spirit your death brought life to the world. By your holy body and blood free me from all my sins and from every evil. Keep me faithful to your teaching, and never let me be parted from you.”

In practice this now optional prayer is rarely heard. The one following it was completely excised in the Novus Ordo. “Let not the partaking of your Body, O Lord Jesus Christ, which I, though unworthy, presume to receive, turn to my judgment and condemnation; but through your goodness may it be unto me a safeguard and healing remedy both of soul and body; you who live and reign with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, One God forever and ever. Amen.”

At this point the people finally kneel just as the priest elevates the Host and invites the faithful to recite the Domine, non sum dignus, “Lord, I am not worthy,” prayer but where formerly it was chanted three times the new standard is one time only. Nor does the priest any more before receiving pray, “I will take the bread of heaven, and call upon the name of the Lord,” followed by reception from the chalice where he once prayed, “What shall I render to the Lord for all the things he has rendered to me? I will take the chalice of salvation, and I will call upon the name of the Lord. With praise on my lips I will call upon the Lord, and I shall be saved from all my enemies.”

Communion is time for high-fiving your friends while singing distracting and syrupy ditties as an army of extraordinary ministers flood the sanctuary. All sense of decorum seems to vanish as the heavy traffic sorts itself out, but don’t genuflect or kneel to receive our Lord because that creates an obstacle for others. Finally things settle down, but gone are the devotional ablutions after Communion, “Grant O Lord, that what we have taken with our mouth we may receive with a pure heart: and that from a temporal gift it may become for us an eternal remedy.” “May your Body, Lord, which I have received and your Blood, which I have drunk, cleave to my inmost parts and grant that no stain of sin may remain in me, whom these pure and holy sacraments have refreshed: You who live and reign, world without end. Amen”

Then, before the final blessing the priest once prayed, “May the homage of my bounden duty be pleasing to you, O Holy Trinity, and grant that the sacrifice which I, though unworthy, have offered in the sight of your majesty, may be acceptable to you, and through your mercy be a propitiation for me and for all those for whom I have offered it: through Christ our Lord. Amen” Now the celebrant needlessly brings everyone to their feet for the final prayer and so they remain standing for the blessing (to save wear and tear on the kneelers, no doubt). A perfunctory bow to the altar and the celebrant processes out. This is a signal for pandemonium to break out.

It wasn’t always thus. In former times, before the priest departed the altar, the faithful were given a final meditation to carry with them called the Last Gospel. This is the famous Prologue to St. John’s Gospel, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. etc.” (Jn. 1:1-14) After this the priest and servers knelt before the altar and recited the Leonine prayers of Pope Leo XIII for “the liberty and exaltation of holy Mother the Church.” As priest and servers marched back into the sacristy the church remained as quiet as it had been during the liturgy as people lingered to pray in thanksgiving.

If we are to judge the tree by its fruits as our Lord said, what does that imply about the Mass as it is commonly celebrated today, stripped down of its former beauty and great dignity? Every Catholic today should be asking themself, “If the Mass is the supreme prayer and act of worship, how is it that so many of the most sublime prayers that were once an integral part of this Divine Liturgy were simply discarded. More perplexing, why is it since the “improved” version of the Mass came out in 1970 have tens of thousands of priests and religious lost their vocations. Why do only about 17% of American Catholics now regularly attend Sunday Mass (even fewer in Europe)? Why can one no longer pray silently in a Catholic church because the decibel level after Mass ends is so high as to hinder meditation? Why do fewer than 3 in 10 Catholics now believe in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist?

Perhaps there is a direct correlation between those questions and the question that seems to be on the minds of so many perplexed prelates today, “Why are so many young people suddenly attracted to the Traditional Latin Mass?” Is it possible that modern people immersed in a culture of noise and vulgarity prefer a quiet, prayerful, uplifting, transcendent experience over a game show atmosphere when they go to worship God? Many now realize that they have been short changed of their Catholic spiritual and cultural heritage by ham handed liturgy committees and ’emcee’ clerics who feel it is their duty to entertain rather than to teach and uplift. Bring back the glorious prayers and resplendent liturgies of our forefathers; fill the churches with magnificent music and stunning architecture; make religion an ethereal, other-worldly experience and people will return in droves. But try and popularize it; conform it to worldly expectations and it will continue to wither on the vine.

Francis J. Pierson +a.m.d.g.