Michael Davies

I HAPPEN TO have lived in the City of Newcastle upon Tyne in the years 1962-63, when my wife was training as a teacher in the Sacred Heart Sisters' College. I have two very vivid memories of Newcastle. My first is its celebrated Brown Ale which I sampled frequently while working as a part-time barman in an effort to supplement our meagre income—I was also a student at the time. My second vivid memory is of the Catholic cathedral, particularly of its sanctuary which was among the most beautiful in any Catholic church in England. The sanctuary was separated from the nave by a delicately carved rood screen, surmounted by a life-sized crucifix with statues of Our Lady and St. John.1 In the place of honor upon the noble and dignified high altar, as prescribed by Canon Law, was the tabernacle containing God the Son Himself. The years I spent in Newcastle were, from a material standpoint, among the most difficult in my life. But to step into the Cathedral was such a joy, such a consolation, that the problems of this world seemed of no consequence whatsoever. Things human were mingled with things divine; it was the ante-room of heaven, the mind was lifted beyond the cares of this world to the delights of the world to come. "Respicite volatilia caeli—Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow, nor do they reap nor gather into barns: and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than they?" (Mt: VII, 26). The consolation evoked by this heavenly sanctuary was mingled with a sense of continuity with the Catholic heritage of my country. Just such an altar and just such a screen would have been found in countless medieval churches until, in all too many cases, the fury of the Protestant Reformers was vented upon them. A clearly defined sanctuary, a rood screen, even an altar rail were too poignant a reminder that in the sanctuary took place mysteries celebrated by men who were not as other men, men who were priests according to the Order of Melchisedech, each one another Christ, an alter Christus, who made our Savior present upon the altar, and offered Him as our Divine Victim each time that Mass was celebrated. But for the Protestant there was no divinely instituted priesthood ordained to offer sacrifice. The faithful were all equally priests, and they chose one of their number to distribute bread and wine in a commemorative communion meal. There must be no majestic sanctuary, no sacral language which the people did not understand, and the host should face his guests across the table, not face the east as a papist priest did when offering the Mass. And since what took place upon the table was a meal, the guests should receive both food and drink, the bread and the wine. What kind of host partakes of the wine and does not offer it to his guests? And since the bread is ordinary bread, and the minister is an ordinary man, he should place it in the hands of his guests. If he placed it upon their tongues it might appear that he had some power which they did not, it might appear that the bread they were given was not ordinary bread. The first Protestants correctly sensed that if they were to triumph they must destroy the Mass; if the Mass was to be destroyed they must repudiate the priesthood and without the Mass and without a priesthood what possible need was there for a sanctuary? A sanctuary is for offering a sacrifice, and there was no sacrifice now beyond one of praise, and no one part of the church was more sacred than another for the offering of this sacrifice. So let the sanctuaries be smashed, let their destruction signify the repudiation of the sacrifice they had been built to enshrine. The first Protestant Communion Service was celebrated by the German Reformer Carlstadt in Wittenberg on Christmas Day 1521. He wore no priestly vestments, used the vernacular, omitted the Canon and any prayers referring to sacrifice, invited the entire congregation to receive the Lord's Supper under both kinds with the bread taken in the hand. Luther himself felt that Carlstadt had gone too far, or at least had gone too quickly, but he eventually adopted all his innovations and added one of his own, a celebration facing the people.

History Repeats Itself

In February 1981, I received one of the most unpleasant shocks of my life. A friend in Newcastle sent me a copy of the Northern Cross, the official monthly journal of the Diocese of Hexam and Newcastle. On the front page there were two photographs of the Cathedral sanctuary; one of the sanctuary I had known and loved, and another depicting a scene of such devastation and desolation that it might well have been a joint effort of Thomas Cranmer and Attila the Hun. Whenever I visit one of the ancient parish church or cathedrals of England, and witness the destruction which was wrought by Protestants, I invariably think: "Inimicus homo hoc fecit—An enemy hath done this" (Mt. 13:28). The same thought came to my mind at once on seeing the "bare ruined choir" of Newcastle Cathedral. Of the beautiful rood-screen not a trace remained; the altar had been torn from the east wall and the tabernacle had been torn from the altar. It was nowhere to be seen in the new arrangement. "The new St. Mary's" read the caption accompanying the pictures—no one could argue with this. A comment beneath the caption stated that there was a striking contrast between the two photographs. This was certainly indisputable. One depicted what was evidently the sanctuary of a Catholic church, the other might have been the mediation room in the headquarters of the U.N. It was also stated that the changes were "in line with the recommendations of the Second Vatican Council." This statement was totally false, because, as I have shown in previous articles in this series, the Council itself did not recommend, still less command, that tabernacles should be thrust aside from their position of honor, or that altars should be moved forward so that Mass could be offered facing the people.

The April 1981 issue of Northern Cross included a letter expressing the anguish of a lady who had seen the photographs, and, finding them too incredible to believe, had visited the Cathedral for herself to discover just what had happened. "The scene that met the eye—and caused considerable distress—was akin to a mausoleum, with its seemingly vast emptiness and gleaming cream marble ... the Cathedral may very well become a mausoleum to the memory of the Most Holy Sacrifice and the Divine Presence, as did so many other Great Houses of God in former days."

The protest evoked the wrath of the man responsible for obliterating the Catholic ethos of St. Mary's Cathedral, Bishop Hugh Lindsay. Mrs. Elizabeth Brown, who had written the letter, alleged the Bishop "does not seem to like the Second Vatican Council and she's on very dangerous ground there." He did not, of course, explain how objecting to the vandalization of Catholic sanctuaries constituted not liking the Second Vatican Council, since the Council itself did not command or recommend such vandalization, but let that pass. The Bishop then made an interesting admission, that what he had done "follows a strong recommendation made at least twice in recent years in documents approved by the Pope." Note carefully the admission that there is no command, no requirement that such changes should be made, only a recommendation. I found it somewhat puzzling that this particular bishop should show the remotest interest in anything recommended by the Pope in view of the extent to which the wishes of successive Pontiffs have been ignored in his diocese, but let that pass too. His reply to Mrs. Brown appeared in the May issue of Northern Cross. In the June issue a letter appeared from a Mr. A. Turnbull, pointing out that although the documents in question may have strongly recommended the changes, it did not follow that the Pope himself endorsed this strong recommendation. All that Pope Paul VI had done was to approve the publication of these documents. Mr. Turnbull pointed out that in the encyclical Mysterium Fidei (1965), Pope Paul VI "had written 'liturgical laws prescribing that the Blessed Sacrament be kept in churches with the greatest honor and in the most distinguished position.' The Cathedral authorities are spending a fortune on these changes because they wish to, not because they have to."

Mr. Turnbull was, of course, totally correct in this opinion. As I explained in the May Angelus, the papal approval given to these documents does not so much as signify that the Pope had actually read them.

The July issue of Northern Cross contained a petulant reply by the Bishop in which he appeared to have undergone a radical change of attitude. What had been a "recommendation" in his May letter had become an "obligation" by July: "His [Mr. Turnbull's] statement that there is no obligation to change is incorrect. Pope Paul VI commissioned, approved and published an Instruction on sanctuary changes in 1970. He ordered all concerned to observe it."

Well, if words mean anything, the Bishop is stating clearly that there is an obligation to change sanctuaries in the way he had done in St. Mary's Cathedral: If Mr. Turnbull was incorrect in stating that there is no obligation to change, then evidently there must be an obligation. Let us examine the evidence.

Must Altars be Freestanding?

I have already shown beyond any possible doubt that no mandatory legislation exists commanding that the tabernacle must be removed from the main altar (May Angelus). We shall examine legislation concerning a freestanding altar in the same way, i.e., whether it constitutes a permission, a recommendation, or a command. The relevant legislation will be examined in chronological order.

Sacrosanctum Concilium,

The Liturgy Constitution of Vatican II

4 December 1963

This Constitution does not recommend that Mass should ever be celebrated facing the people; it does not even mention the practice, and hence it does not refer to the need for a freestanding altar. Article 124 states that when churches are to be built care should be taken that they are suitable for the celebration of liturgical services and the active participation of the faithful. Note that it refers only to the building of new churches and not the adaptation of existing ones. As Mass facing the people is in no way necessary for, or in any way conducive to, the active participation of the faithful, it is evident that this article did not envisage freestanding altars even in new churches.

There is a reference to the altar in No. 128, but it simply states that new liturgical laws should refer to the worthy and well-planned construction of sacred buildings, and the shape and construction of altars. Once again, there is no reference to their being freestanding. No. 127 requires bishops to ensure that sacred furnishings and works of value are not destroyed as they are ornaments in God's house. Sadly, this requirement has had no effect on prelates such as Bishop Lindsay who have had no hesitation in destroying such works of art as the rood-screen in St. Mary's Cathedral.

Before the Council had ended some priests had begun to place tables in front of their altars upon which they celebrated Mass facing the people. This is an example of the celebrated "Spirit of Vatican II," in which practices which can find no sanction in the official documents of the Council are presented as in accordance with its spirit.

Inter Oecumenici,

the First Instruction on Putting into Effect the Constitution on Sacred Liturgy

26 September 1964

In March of the same year, the Commission for the Implementation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy had been established, the notorious Consilium, with Cardinal Lercaro as the President and Father Annibale Bugnini as the Secretary. Father Bugnini was described by Dietrich von Hildebrand as "the evil spirit of the liturgical reform." The manner in which the Consilium did its work is made very clear in this document, which, although promulgated under the auspices of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, was also signed by Cardinal Lercaro in his capacity as President of the Consilium. The Consilium did not have the authority to promulgate legislation, and so the changes it wished to impose were promulgated by the Sacred Congregation. The late Archbishop R.J. Dwyer of Portland, Oregon, remarked, with the benefit of hindsight, that "the great mistake in the implementation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy to fall into the hands of men who were either unscrupulous or incompetent. This is the so-called 'Liturgical Establishment,' a Sacred Cow which acts more like a White Elephant as it tramples the shards of a shattered liturgy with ponderous abandon."

As I have just stated, the manner in which the Consilium did its work is made very clear in Inter Oecumenici. No. 90 reads:

In building new churches and in repairing or adapting old ones care must be taken to ensure that they lend themselves to the celebration of divine services as they are meant to be celebrated, and to achieve the active participation of the faithful (cf. Const, art. 124).

However, No. 124 of the Liturgy Constitution does not state this. The words in italic do not occur in it. No. 124 mentions new churches only. But how many of those who read Inter Oecumenici would have taken the trouble to verify the reference? Throughout this century Catholics had taken it for granted that any document coming from the Vatican would be beyond reproach. It would have appeared almost uncatholic to so much as think of verifying a reference in a Vatican document.

No. 91 contains the first reference to a celebration facing the people in the conciliar or post-conciliar legislation:

It is better (praestat ut) for the main altar to be constructed away from the wall so that one can move round it without difficulty, and so that it can (peragi possit) be used for a celebration facing the people.

Note very carefully that Inter Oecumenici does no more than recommend the construction of altars away from the wall to make possible a celebration facing the people. It does not actually recommend celebrating Mass in this way, nor does it command that new altars must be freestanding, or that existing altars must be moved forward from the east wall. No reference is given for No .91, which is not surprising since at no time in the history of the Church have altars ever been constructed specifically to facilitate a celebration facing the people. As I showed in the March Angelus, there is no precedent in the entire history of the Church for celebrating Mass facing the people as an act of conscious pastoral policy. The practice constitutes a radical break with Tradition, and has been invested with an anti-sacrificial signification since its adoption by Protestants as a sign that they believe their Lord's Supper to be no more than a commemorative meal.

Jumping on the Bandwagon

One of the saddest characteristics of human behavior which can be identified in almost every century in every country is what I would term the "bandwagon-syndrome." When a bandwagon begins to roll it takes great strength of character to refrain from jumping on. The crowds who shouted "Hosanna" on Palm Sunday were screaming "Crucify Him!" on Good Friday. And why was this? They did it because everybody else seemed to be doing it, and there is a feeling of comfort and security in doing what everyone else does. In 1965 we were witnessing an almost hysterical stampede among priests to celebrate Mass versus populum, facing the people. As I will show, there has never been so much as a recommendation that this should be done in any Vatican document, simply recommendations that altars should be constructed in a way that would make such a celebration possible. But the practice itself has not been recommended, let alone made mandatory. It was not recommended by the Council; it has no precedent in Tradition; why was it done? I have little doubt that since the Council tens, if not hundreds, of millions of dollars have been squandered throughout the world in vandalizing beautiful sanctuaries to make a versus populum celebration the norm. The only explanation I can give is that it represented a bout of mass hysteria among the clergy. Many of those who adopted the practice are, I am sure, totally orthodox. I know that hundreds of parish priests read The Angelus, and almost all of them will celebrate Mass in this way. I hope that what I have written will not offend them, and I am certainly not condemning them. They behaved in a normal, understandable and predictable manner. Everyone seemed to be celebrating versus populum so they did so too. If asked why they would probably answer: "It seemed a good idea at the time."

The Lercaro Letters

The next documents to which I will refer do not seem to be very well known. Cardinal Lercaro, President of the Consilium, was alarmed at the liturgical anarchy which was becoming widespread in 1965 before the Council had even concluded! He issued a warning, against unauthorized innovations which he described as noxious, and which God would not bless. He feared that these arbitrary experiments would offend the piety of the faithful and compromise the official reforms. Sadly, the concern he showed seems to have been similar to that displayed by Luther when Carlstadt went too far too quickly, and just as Luther eventually adopted all of Carlstadt's innovations, so a good number of the noxious initiatives undertaken without authorization in the mid-sixties were eventually made official: priests said the entire Mass in the vernacular—this was legalized; they gave Communion in the hand—this was legalized; laymen distributed Holy Communion—this was legalized.

In his letter Cardinal Lercaro made special mention of what he termed a "general movement to celebrate versus populum." He stressed the fact that the practice was not necessary for pastoral efficacy, and condemned the hasty, ill thought out changes in the sanctuaries of existing churches to the irreparable harm of other values which also required respect.

The Cardinal's letter had little or no effect, and on 25 January 1966, he wrote once more to the presidents of episcopal conferences, stressing that Mass facing the people was not necessary for active participation, and that account must be taken of artistic and architectural considerations. All this, remember, was over three years before the promulgation of the Novus Ordo Missae, but liturgical anarchy was widespread.

The General Instruction

The next relevant document is the General Instruction on the Roman Missal, published by the Sacred Congregation of Rites on 6 April 1969. No. 262 of this Instruction is identical to No. 91 of Inter Oecumenici, with one crucial exception. The words "praestat ut—it is better" have been removed, so that it reads:

The main altar should be constructed away from the wall so that one can move round it without difficulty and so that it can be used for a celebration facing the people.

A reference is given for this recommendation, and note carefully that it is no more than a recommendation, which is Inter Oecumenici, No. 91. However, as we have already noted, the recommendation in Inter Oecumenici, "it is better that," is far weaker than that in No. 262 of the General Instruction.

Liturgicae Instaurationes,

5 September 1970

The last document which we need to consider is Liturgicae Instaurationes, the Third Instruction on Implementing the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. No. 10 of this Instruction contains three paragraphs:

a) In applying the liturgical reform, bishops should give special attention to the fixed and dignified arrangement of the sacred place, especially its sanctuary, in accordance with the norms of the General Instruction on the Roman Missal and the Instruction Eucharisticum Mysterium.

These documents do not contain any mandatory legislation requiring any change in the sanctuary whatsoever, only recommendations. Eucharisticum Mysterium was discussed in the April Angelus, where it was noted that it is self-contradictory in place.

b) Temporary arrangements made in recent years should gradually be given final form. Some of these provisory solutions, already disapproved of by the Consilium are still in use though they are liturgically and artistically unsatisfactory and render difficult the worthy celebration of Mass.

A reference is given to the letter of Cardinal Lercaro published in the September 1965 issue of Notitiae, which has already been cited. Paragraph (6) does not recommend making changes in existing sanctuaries, simply discontinuing temporary arrangements. As Mass does not need to be celebrated facing the people no temporary arrangements need ever have been made.

c) With the help of diocesan committees on the liturgy and sacred art, and after consultation if necessary with other experts and the civil authorities, a detailed study should be made of new building projects, and a review of temporary arrangements; so that churches may be given a definitive arrangement which respects artistic monuments, adapting them as far as possible to present day needs.

The Rubrics of the Novus Ordo Missae

There is only one possible conclusion to be drawn from an examination of all the relevant Vatican documents relating to the subject of Mass facing the people, i.e., there is no mandatory legislation imposing the practice or requiring that sanctuaries should be altered to make it possible. This is confirmed by an examination of the rubrics for the New Mass itself. There is not one rubric providing for a celebration versus populum, but an examination of the General Instruction will reveal a number of rubrics instructing the priest to turn to face the congregation and then to turn back to the altar, e.g., numbers 107, 115, 116, 122, 198 and 199. If it had been the mind of the Church that Mass should be celebrated facing the people this would have been provided for in the rubrics.

A Bishop Speaks

In view of Bishop Lindsay's claim in the July 1981 Northern Cross that the sanctuary changes are obligatory, I wrote to another English bishop who is noted for his knowledge of the liturgy. I asked him whether there is any mandatory legislation requiring that Mass should be celebrated facing the people, and expressed my own view that no such legislation exists. He replied: "I would agree with you that there is no mandatory legislation compelling a priest to celebrate Mass facing the people. Moreover, the Church is very anxious re vandalism in its legislation."

The Example of the Oratory

As a final and very pertinent piece of evidence, I would cite the Brompton Oratory in London. This is probably the most beautiful Catholic Church in Britain. The Oratorian Fathers were first brought to this country by Cardinal Newman, and have always been distinguished for their knowledge and celebration of the Liturgy. The London Oratory celebrated its centenary in April this year, and has just been fully restored and repainted. The Oratorians have implemented all the mandatory liturgical changes imposed since Vatican II, but have made no changes in their sanctuary whatsoever as no mandatory changes have ever been promulgated. Mass is still celebrated with priests and people facing the East, symbol of the Risen Christ, as our Fathers in the Faith have done since apostolic times.

Conclusion

I am now able to conclude this series which I began in February. The fact that it has needed to be so long, to be so technical, and, at time, tedious and repetitive, illustrates the difficulties experienced by those who wish to uphold the liturgical traditions of the Roman Rite. I could cite numerous cases of bishops and priests claiming, like Bishop Lindsay, that there is a legal obligation to make changes in our sanctuaries. It is easy to make such a statement, particularly when most Catholics will accept it at face value and, in any case, would not have the resources to refute it. But to present the truth requires much time, much effort, and much space. If elementary norms of justice were observed in the Church today it would be those who wished to vandalize our sanctuaries who would be required to prove that there was a legal requirement for them to do so, but, alas, it is those who oppose the barbarians who are required to prove their case. What is even more unjust is that when we do prove our case, those in authority are not even interested and will press ahead with the changes anyhow. This was the case in Kansas City, at the parish of Christ the King (see February Angelus); it was the case in Newcastle upon Tyne, England; it was the case in 1983 in the beautiful church of St. Mary's in Belfast.

Archbishop R. J. Dwyer stated correctly, the barbarians have taken over, the despisers of culture, and we have lost an entire generation in the process. This final point is of considerable importance. Traditional Catholics are not opposing an ongoing liturgical renewal which has brought enormous pastoral benefits. The liturgical renewal has been a pastoral fiasco, more than a fiasco, a disaster! Seventy-two percent of American Catholics went to Mass before the great "renewal," only forty percent do so now. But the liturgical barbarians would not really care if no one went at all; barbarians are not people who think, they are not people who care, they are people who smash. They have exchanged thuribles for sledge-hammers and they find the change exhilarating. Well, they have had their way. They have destroyed a cultural heritage that was beyond price. It can never be replaced. We were not able to stop them; but there is one thing that we must never allow them, and that is the satisfaction of claiming that they were acting under orders. Let Mr. Turnbull have the last word. In his protest to Bishop Lindsay he sums up everything that I have documented in this series:

The Cathedral authorities are spending a fortune on these changes because they wish to, not because they have to.

1. A rood-beam separates the sanctuary from the nave and derives its name from the large, often life-sized, crucifix mounted upon it, usually flanked by statues of Our Lady and St. John. The word "rood" is derived from the Anglo-Saxon word "rod"—a pole, a gallows, and so, a cross. The Cross upon which Our Savior died was referred to as the Holy Rood. As far back as the thirteenth century, screens were erected beneath the rood-beam. Some exceptionally beautiful carved wooden screens can still be found in the parish churches of Devon, e.g., in Lapford, North Devon, a church referred to on page 124 of my book, Cranmer's Godly Order. The rood-beam was often wide enough for liturgical ceremonies to take place upon it (rood-loft), and the steps giving access to it still exist in some English parish churches where the screen itself was destroyed during the Protestant Reformation. The feast of the Exaltation (14 September) was often known as Rood Day, Holyrood Day, or Roodmas Day.

Part II

Michael Davies

- Back to Part I -

In part one of this series Michael Davies recounted a depressing story of liturgical vandalism in the Diocese of Kansas City-St. Joseph, where the bishop brought in armed police to assist in the removal of the tabernacle from its place of honor on the high altar. In our April issue Mr. Davies will examine whether any law making such a change mandatory has been promulgated since Vatican II. In this issue he examines the Tradition of the Church on the question of Mass facing the people, as one reason frequently given for demoting the tabernacle to an inferior position—that it would impede visibility on an altar designed for Mass facing the people, and, it is claimed, we should celebrate Mass in this manner as it was the practice of the early Church. As Mr. Davies states in his article, full documentation for every statement he makes can be found in his book Pope Paul's New Mass. We advise readers who do not possess this unique source of reference to order a copy soon for our stock is dwindling and, once out of print, it may be several years before we have the resources to reprint it!

BEFORE EXAMINING legislation concerning the siting of the tabernacle which has appeared since the Second Vatican Council, it will be useful to examine the subject within the context of Tradition. Furthermore, the question of the siting of the tabernacle cannot be considered in isolation from that of Mass facing the people. It is often argued that as Mass must now be celebrated facing the people, the tabernacle must be removed from the altar. The necessity for a celebration facing the people, versus populum, will be considered first. This subject, and that of the tabernacle, are dealt with in considerable detail in my book Pope Paul's New Mass, and full documentation is provided there for every claim made in this article, in which I will do no more than state the facts as simply as possible, and refer those wanting more detail to my book.1

Mass Facing the People—Historical Fact or Fantasy?

The barbarians, the despisers of culture, who are responsible for the frenzy of destruction which has devastated the sanctuary of almost every Catholic Church in the West, often attempt to justify their vandalism on the grounds that the practice has been mandated by the Second Vatican Council, and constitutes a return to the custom of the primitive Church. Both these allegations are nonsensical, but we will begin our examination with the second.

Those who claim that Mass has been celebrated facing the people as an act of conscious pastoral policy at any period in the history of the Church, prior to Vatican II, are influenced not by fact but by fantasy. Their understanding of the nature of the Mass is usually as defective as their knowledge of liturgical history. They tend to believe that the essence of the Mass is found in the coming together of the local community. The Mass, for them, is the assembly of the faithful over which the ordained priest does no more than preside. Although they would not say so explicitly, in most cases they envisage this gathering as a mutual glorification society. It is an assembly consecrated to the glory of man. Priest and people smirk at each other over the table; they exchange glances of mutual self-admiration; they are pleased with what they see.

This concept of the Mass is totally heretical, totally Protestant. The Mass, in its most profound reality, is the making present among us of the Sacrifice of Calvary. God the Son is made present upon the altar as a sacrificial victim to be offered to the Blessed Trinity by and for the Church, and the Church offers herself together with Jesus Christ, Who is her head. Our Lord is the true High Priest of every Mass, as well as the Divine Victim. He won the grace necessary for our salvation upon the Cross and He mediates that grace to us through the Mass.

A sacrifice is offered upon an altar, and before Vatican II there was no doubt that the focal point in every Catholic church was an unmistakable altar of sacrifice. Nicholas Ridley, the Protestant Bishop of London, stated no more than the truth when he declared in 1550 that the purpose of an altar was to offer a sacrifice, while the purpose of a table was to serve a meal.2 Because the Anglican sect repudiated the Catholic concept of the Eucharistic Sacrifice, it quite logically replaced altars with tables. How amused Ridley would be today to see that almost every priest in the West has either destroyed his altar or abandoned it in favor of a squalid table. "Do these priests believe in sacrifice?" he would ask. I fear that in many cases the answer would have to be "No."

Liturgical History—A Neglected Science

A few years ago I was invited to a discussion with the Cardinal Prefect of an important Roman Congregation, a man of unimpeachable orthodoxy. He had a mastery of theology which could not be faulted and it was a privilege and an inspiration to listen to him. But then our discussion turned to the liturgy and, as the minutes passed, I discovered with growing incredulity that I knew more about liturgical history than he did. Some readers may consider me guilty of scarcely credible pride and arrogance for making this claim, but it is absolutely true. In order to prove my point I will mention that he thought traditionalists were making far too much fuss about the position of the altar. "The Mass is the Mass," he said, "whatever the direction the priest faces when he offers it." This, of course, is true. "In any case," he added, "Mass always used to be celebrated facing the people, look at the altar in St. Peter's."

I deemed it prudent not to contradict him, and nodded my head in a non-committal way. Some weeks later I wrote him a tactful letter outlining the facts which I shall be presenting in this article. But first, I had better explain the reason why not simply this cardinal, but so many Catholic priests have such a limited knowledge of liturgical history.

The pre-conciliar seminaries gave excellent courses in the theology of the Mass and the rubrics of the Mass and the priests who emerged from them knew what the Mass was and how to celebrate it. Sadly, they often had only a very superficial knowledge of its history. They followed the rubrics because they were the rubrics, often without knowing how particular rubrics had developed. Then, when the rubrics were changed after Vatican II, they followed the new rubrics just as they had followed the old. When they were told to celebrate Mass facing the people, or saw most other priests celebrate Mass facing the people, they simply followed suit. Many were convinced that they had, somehow, been discourteous to their congregations by "turning their backs to them." We are often told today that it is a great blessing that the priest no longer celebrates Mass with his back to the congregation.

Why, then, did the priest say Mass in this way before the Second Vatican Council?

Orientation

The traditional manner of celebrating Mass did not involve any question of facing the people or not facing the people. It lay in the almost universal practice of "orientation" for worship. Orientation today has taken on the meaning of to face in a particular direction, any direction. It originated with a word meaning the east—Orient. The word is derived from the Latin verb oriri, to rise; and because the sun rises in the East, the direction took its name from the action.

If a Christian is asked to name the most important event in the history of the world he should reply without hesitation: "The Resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ.'' Truly, if Christ had not risen our faith would be in vain. From the very beginning of the Church, Christians looked upon the rising sun as a symbol of the Son of God rising from the dead. They offered Mass facing the East throughout centuries of persecution, and, when they were allowed to build churches, almost always did so with the apse containing the altar at the East end. The medieval churches and cathedrals of England are perhaps her greatest glory. Their towers and spires rise up over the greatest cities and smallest villages, a reminder of an epoch when religion was the predominating force in society, and life on earth was truly looked upon as a preparation for the life to come. Although, alas, the Mass has been banished from those churches since the reformation, each morning the first rays of the rising sun bring to life images in the stained glass of the windows at the East end of the church, above the altar where for centuries humble priests began their day by offering holy Mass for themselves and for their people.

Orientation—A Natural Instinct

Orientation, in its present sense of facing a particular direction, is a religious custom which long predated Christianity. The Jews, wherever they lived in the world, turned to face the temple in Jerusalem when they prayed. So-called liturgical "experts" today often attempt to justify Mass facing the people by stating that Our Lord did not turn His back upon His Apostles at the Last Supper. Of course He didn't, but neither did He face them across a table. They were all on the same side, facing the temple! It is thus nonsensical to claim that we are returning to the practice of the Last Supper by adopting the practice of a celebration facing the people. Similarly, it is equally nonsensical to claim that having Mass in the vernacular is a return to what took place at the Last Supper. A major part of the Jewish paschal liturgy was conducted in Hebrew, as it is today. Hebrew was no more comprehensible to an ordinary Jew at the time of Our Lord than Latin is to an ordinary Mexican today, even though Aramaic, the language then used in Palestine, was derived from Hebrew, just as Spanish is derived from Latin.

Facing a particular direction for worship seems to be a natural religious instinct. This also appears to be the case with conducting religious worship in a non-vernacular or at least a highly-stylized form of language.3 Religions can be divided into two groups as regards the precise direction which must be adopted for worship. The first stipulates an orientation of a geographical nature: Muslims turn in the direction of the Kaaba of Mecca, Jews toward Jerusalem. Others practice an orientation of an astronomic or cosmic nature; these include most classical religions and Christianity. The divine nature often ascribed to the sun made orientation per se, i.e., worshipping in the direction of the East, symbol of the rising sun, a very common phenomenon. It is probable that the adoption of the eastward direction for worship by the early Christians was influenced by the cultural milieu in which they found themselves, and not surprisingly this caused some disquiet. St. Leo the Great warned that even the appearance of a parallel between Christianity and paganism must be avoided. There is a parallel here with the adoption of December 25 as the date for Christmas. Pagans commonly had a feast in honor of the birth of the unconquered sun at about this time. The continually shortening days indicated its death, but the winter solstice4 marked its triumphant rebirth.

Christ—Sol Salutis

The adoption of the eastward direction for worship by Christians also represented a reaction against the Jewish practice of turning towards Jerusalem to pray. The East symbolized the heavenly Jerusalem in contrast with the earthly Jerusalem of the Jews. The Christians of antiquity found a rich and seemingly inexhaustible symbolism in the eastward direction. Christians worshipped not the sun king but the King of the sun, because the sun itself was created by Christ (non est Dominus Sol factus, sed per quem Sol factus est). Our Lord had faced the West while offering the sacrifice of His life upon the Cross, and so by facing eastwards during the Mass we are actually facing Him, because the Sacrifice of the Cross is made present during the Mass. The unconquered sun of paganism (sol invictus) had become a symbol for the unconquered Son of God, the victor over death and Satan, the sun of salvation—sol salutis. Christ had risen from His tomb as surely as the sun rose in the East each day, and every sunrise was a cause of hope to the first Christians whose lives were permeated by the joy of the Resurrection; they were truly described as "an Easter-people." St. Thomas Aquinas taught that the eastward direction symbolized both Paradise lost and Paradise regained. Paradise had been situated in the East, and so by worshipping in this direction we symbolize our desire to regain Paradise, the heavenly Paradise represented by the East. There are also traditions that just as the birth of the Messiah was heralded by a star in the East (stellam ejus in Oriente), so His Second Coming will be like lightning come from the same direction (sicut enim fulgur exit ab oriente), Matt. 24:27. There is also a tradition that the Second Coming will take place during the celebration of Mass. With their eyes fixed on the East, priest and people will be prepared to receive Him in an attitude of adoration.

It should now be apparent how fatuous it is to speak of the priest celebrating Mass with "his back to the people." During Mass the priest stands between people and altar, a mediator between God and man, the outermost representative of humanity, standing at the very point where heaven and earth come together when God the Son is brought down upon the altar as our Sacrificial Victim (hostia). The priest is also like a shepherd in eastern countries. He does not need to drive his flock from behind, to watch them lest they stray. He walks before them, leading them to green pastures or the safety of their fold. They know him and he knows them. But Catholics at worship today no longer look outwards and upwards to heaven, no longer fix their hearts and minds upon Our Lord. Contemporary Catholicism is an introspective religion, symbolized aptly by the turning round of the altar so that, turned in upon themselves, priest and people can fix their minds upon each other.

The Witness of Archaeology

It has been proved beyond any shadow of doubt that from the time the Christians were first allowed to build churches, they constructed them along an east-west axis. Some had the apse containing the altar at the east end, and the entrance at the west; in others this procedure was reversed. By the end of the fourth century almost every church building in the East had the apse at the east end, and by the second half of the fifth century this was also the case in the West. But, even where the altar was situated at the west end of the church, Mass was still celebrated facing the East, and so the altars of these churches were constructed in such a manner that the priest could stand on the west side in order to celebrate Mass facing the East. This arrangement can still be seen in such basilicas as St. Peter's in Rome, and it is precisely this arrangement that has given rise to the myth of Mass facing the people as a practice of the early Church.

But surely, it might be argued, if the celebrant stood on the west side of the altar, as he would have done in St. Peter's Basilica, then Mass must have been celebrated facing the people. Not at all. The ancient practice in churches where the apse was at the west end was as follows: the congregation did not stand directly in front of the altar but on either side of the nave, the men on one side and the women on the other. During the first part of the Mass, the Mass of the Catechumens, the congregation would face the celebrant in order to hear the readings and the homily. But for the Mass of the Faithful, now known as the Eucharistic liturgy, they would all turn to face the East. Ancient liturgies contain directions for the congregation to face the East, or, as the instruction was usually expressed, to turn towards the Lord (Conversi ad Dominum). Turning toward the Lord, symbolized by the rising sun, and turning towards the East were synonomous. This expression is found at the conclusion of forty-seven authentic sermons of St. Augustine. The construction of the altar in such basilicas as St. Peter's was, then, to make possible a Mass facing the East and not a Mass facing the people. The Missal of St. Pius V contained a rubric which had been drafted to cater for the situation in the few Roman basilicas where the altar was at the west end. This rubric referred to altars sited versus populum, facing the people. Long before the pontificate of Pope St. Pius V, the practice of siting the altar at the west end of the church had become virtually non-existent outside a handful of Roman basilicas, and the custom of turning to face the East had naturally died out. But, not surprisingly, the practice in a few important basilicas was catered for in the rubrics of the Roman Missal, and, as the priest now faced the people throughout the Mass, it was only natural that the phrase versus populum was used.5 It is possible, probable in fact, that those who drafted the rubrics were unaware of the reason for the deviation from normal practice found in these basilicas. But with the findings of modern scholarship no one purporting to be an authority on the liturgy has the least excuse for claiming that the siting of an altar in a few basilicas in Rome, and a rubric in the Missal of St. Pius V, prove that Mass facing the people was the ancient custom of the Church.

The Witness of the East

It is of considerable significance that the Eastern Church developed the custom of placing a screen (the ikonostasis) before the altar. The faithful are thus unable to see the priest during the most important moments of the Mass. The eminent liturgist, Father Joseph Jungmann, writes:

The different Oriental rites have never countenanced the practice of celebrating the liturgy in this position (versus populum). This is worthy of note because these rites have generally preserved the primitive, traditional practices of the Church most faithfully and because they have retained to this day a very active and close participation of the laity.

The existence of the Ikonostasis manifests a belief that it is not simply unnecessary for the congregation to see every part of the liturgical action but that there are certain parts which they should positively not be allowed to see. Sufficient stress has not been placed on the fact that almost all principles which the liturgical experts of the Roman Rite now maintain are essential for a satisfactory celebration are a straightforward and even offensive condemnation of the practice of Eastern Christians. In the churches of the East the mentality of the ancient Church is still maintained—the Eucharistic celebration is an act of worship. St. Augustine's admonition conversi ad Dominum is timeless. Priest and people come together to turn towards the Lord, to offer Him a solemn sacrifice, to forget the things of earth and fix their gaze upon the heavenly Jerusalem. The call in the West today is to relate the Mass to everyday life, and this is something which the traditional eastward celebration made clear. This, says Father Jungmann, was the practice of the ancient Church:

Now the priest is standing at the altar, generally built of stone, as the leader of his people; the people look up to him and to the altar at the same time, and together with the priest they face towards the east. Now the whole congregation is like a huge procession led by the priest and moving east towards the sun, towards Christ the Lord.

Pastoral Advantages

The practice of celebrating Mass facing the people is alleged to have considerable pastoral advantages, the principal one being that the congregation can see what the priest is doing. Such eminent authorities as Professor Cyrille Vogel have demonstrated that there was never any question in the early Church of celebrating Mass in such a manner that the congregation could see the liturgical acts in order to play a more effective part in the celebration. This idea is a modern one. It is alien to the entire Catholic liturgical ethos in both East and West and confers no pastoral benefit whatsoever, even for children. On the contrary, far from deepening the attention of the congregation it is likely to diminish it. When the priest faces the people across the altar there is no variation to stimulate interest. He simply stands there talking at the people and, in the New Mass, the number of visual gestures such as genuflection and signs of the Cross have been drastically curtailed. The traditional Mass was, as Msgr. Knox observed, a kind of sacred dance with continual variation. The priest would turn to greet the congregation from time to time, he would turn to show them the Host in the Ecce Agnus Dei, he would raise Host and Chalice high and make his double genuflection. This was all combined with the contrast between the silence of the Canon and the ringing of the bells. The Eastern Churches certainly show great pastoral insight in having the most sacred moments of the liturgy enacted behind the Ikonostasis. When the priest re-emerges bringing God the Son, the dramatic impact is considerably enhanced. Added to this, of course, is the significance of the eastward orientation—priest and people facing the heavenly Jerusalem to offer their solemn sacrifice.

It is quite obvious that many clergy, the younger ones in particular, have been struck by the evident boredom and apathy on the faces of their congregations and have been prompted to arouse interest by providing the people with a dramatic performance. If they succeed in this it is not the liturgical actions which are stimulating interest but the antics of the celebrant, often of a most unedifying nature.

The Testimony of Tradition

Fidelity to Tradition has been the most evident characteristic of the Catholic Church throughout her history. In his Summa Theologica, St. Thomas Aquinas warned us that: "It is absurd and a detestable shame, that we should suffer those traditions to be changed which we have received from the Fathers of old." The practice of celebrating the Eucharist facing the people as a deliberate pastoral policy originated with Martin Luther, it was taken up by leaders of the Protestant heresy in other countries. But where the Catholic Church is concerned, the claim that there was ever a time when Mass was celebrated facing the people as an act of conscious pastoral policy is total fantasy. The truth was expressed with admirable clarity by Msgr. Klaus Camber, Director of the Liturgical Institute of Regensburg, when he stated: "There never was a celebration versus populum in either the Eastern or Western Church. Instead there was a turning towards the East."

Conclusion

There is clearly no support from Tradition for a law mandating that Mass must be celebrated facing the people, and hence there must be no tabernacle upon the altar to impede visibility. If such a law had been promulgated since Vatican II it would be a condemnation of the entire liturgical Tradition of the Church, and hence would be highly suspect. Any priest would have ample justification for refusing to implement such an unprecedented violation of a tradition received from the Fathers of old. However, as I shall make clear in my next article, no law mandating a celebration facing the people has ever been promulgated since the Council.

1. Available from The Angelus Press, Box 1387, Dickinson, Texas 77539. Paper, $10.00; Hardback, $12.95.

2. The Catholic altar is, of course, also a table, as the Eucharistic banquet is served upon it after the Sacrifice, but the Mass is primarily a sacrifice, and the function of the sacrificial altar takes precedence.

3. This practice is common to such religions as Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. The phenomenon is examined in Chapter XVI of Pope Paul's New Mass. Thus by imposing an vernacular liturgy based as closely as possible on everyday English (as spoken in the U.S.A.), the bishops of the English-speaking world are going against what is evidently a profound and universal religious instinct.

4. A solstice is the time when the sun reaches its maximum distance from the equator. The summer solstice occurs at about 21 June when the sun touches the tropic of Cancer, and the days start to shorten. The winter solstice occurs around 21 December when it touches the tropic of Capricorn, and the days begin to lengthen.

5. See Ritus servandus in celebratione Missae, V, Article 3.

Part III

Michael Davies

In the third article of his series on the Liturgical Barbarians, Michael Davies examines what the Second Vatican Council mandated on the subject of the sanctuary. He finds that although the Constitution on the Liturgy did not command or even authorize specifically any of the changes that have been made in the sanctuary, it made them possible by ambiguous phrases inserted into its text by liberal "experts." This article will probably provide a startling insight into the Council for those who have not read his book, Pope John's Council, or Father Wiltgen's The Rhine Flows into the Tiber. Both these books are available from The Angelus Press and are essential reading for anyone wishing to know the truth about Vatican II.

In the March issue of The Angelus it was shown that never in the history of the Church in East or West has Mass ever been celebrated facing the people as an act of conscious pastoral policy. It was shown that in the few cases of churches possessing altars apparently designed for a celebration facing the people, the real reason was to permit a celebration facing the East, as in these churches the altar was at the west end. The inescapable conclusion of any objective study of Mass facing the people in the history of the Church is that the practice is not sanctioned by and is incompatible with Tradition, and that even if mandatory legislation had been promulgated since Vatican II ordering that Mass should be celebrated facing the people, any priest would have ample justification for refusing to implement such a flagrant and unprecedented breach with Tradition. In this article we shall examine what the Council itself mandated concerning the sanctuary.

The Least Important Council

Before discussing what Vatican II and the post-conciliar legislation had to say on the subject of Mass facing the people, it will be helpful to examine the Council itself. There had been twenty councils prior to Vatican II, but anyone reading the Catholic press today, or listening to the typical bishop or theologian, would imagine that no other general council had ever been held, or even that the Church had begun with Vatican II. From a dogmatic standpoint, Vatican II is the least important of all the councils. It settled no disputed question, it promulgated no dogmatic definitions binding upon the faithful, it deliberately refrained from investing any of its teaching with the note of infallibility. It is legitimate to wonder why precisely the Council was called, and what exactly its purpose was. Pope John XXIII claimed that he convoked it as a result of an inspiration from the Holy Ghost, but no Catholic is obliged to believe that this was the case. Cardinal Heenan, Primate of the Catholic Church in England and Wales, explained in the second volume of his autobiography that Pope John could not possibly have foreseen the results of his decision to call a council. He was, the Cardinal testifies, under the impression that the bishops had come together in Rome for a short convivial meeting, but its sessions continued for five years. God was indeed merciful in allowing the old Pope to die before he saw the extent to which his Council, as Cardinal Heenan put it, "provided an excuse for rejecting so much of the Catholic doctrine which he wholeheartedly accepted."1

Note that Cardinal Heenan did not accuse the Council of rejecting the teaching of the Church, but claimed that it provided an excuse for this to be done. How did it happen? All of us are, to a certain extent, children of our times. Catholics are supposed to live in the world but not be of the world. We have no abiding city here, our vocation is to be citizens of heaven. But living in the world we are bound to be influenced by the world, and by its prevailing trends. The predominant tendencies in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries have been totally incompatible with the Catholic ethos. The fundamental principle of Catholicism is that it is a God-centered religion. He is our Creator, we are His creatures, and the primary purpose of our life here on earth is to do His will so that we can spend an eternity of happiness with Him in heaven. But the prevailing trend today is to make man the measure of all things, to make the building of a paradise on earth his primary concern. The Catholic approach to any problem is to ask how it relates to the will of God; the contemporary approach is to ask how it conforms to the material well-being of man. Thus, when confronted with a problem such as artificial contraception, the question asked is not: "Does God forbid it?" but: "Will man find it inconvenient?" Catholic intellectuals, academics in particular, had long been embarrassed at the extent to which the contemporary world found Catholicism unacceptable. There was a great desire among them to make it acceptable, and not necessarily for malicious motives. Many believed sincerely that the future of the Catholic religion depended upon its being presented in a way that the contemporary world would accept, not realizing that if the contemporary world found Catholicism acceptable it would not be the religion founded by Jesus Christ. Condemned proposition 80 in the Syllabus of Errors of Pope Pius IX was that: "The Roman Pontiff can, and ought to reconcile himself, and come to terms with progress, liberalism and modern civilization." Such a reconciliation was, if only subconsciously, the goal which many of the more influential figures at Vatican II had set themselves, and, I will repeat, in most cases it was with the idea of helping and not harming the Church. This had also been the ambition, at least in its initial stages, of the Modernist movement which had been repressed but not extinguished by Pope St. Pius X. The great saint pointed out in his Encyclical Pascendi, that the inevitable outcome of Modernism is atheism. Christianity is not a religion which can compromise and survive; its Founder died upon the Cross; thousands of its first members were expected to die a cruel death in the Roman arenas rather than burn a small bowl of incense before the statue of the emperor. One can well imagine many of those now claiming to interpret "the spirit of Vatican II" condemning these martyrs for their lack of ecumenical spirit.

The "Spirit" of Vatican II

Note here that, just as Cardinal Heenan did not accuse the Council of rejecting the teaching of the Council, I have not referred to those quoting the Council but to those interpreting its "spirit." The documents of the Council were far from perfect, as I will demonstrate, but the great damage done by the Council was the spirit it created. Some American bishops testified with the zeal of born-again Christians that the Council had transformed them, that the beliefs they brought to the Council were not those they returned home with. How did this happen? The answer is that the men with the greatest influence at the Council were not the bishops who voted for the documents but the experts who drafted them, and on whose advice the bishops came to rely. There is a parallel here with secular governments whose leading ministers often rely on the advice of professional experts. The conciliar experts (periti in Latin), were the intellectuals and theologians most likely to have been affected by contemporary thinking through their contacts with non-Catholic academics. These men not only drafted the documents that were to contain the teaching of the Council, but they gave lectures to the bishops—the great recycling process which followed the Council had begun. They also had the ear of the principal reporters covering the Council, men who were almost entirely anti-authoritarian liberals, and these reporters praised and publicized those who echoed their own ideas, and denigrated or ignored those who did not. Father Louis Bouyer, one of the orthodox experts (there were some), and one of the greatest scholars in the French Church today, lamented the fact that the Council had surrendered itself to the dictatorship of the journalists. He was referring to the fact that many of the bishops and their experts prepared speeches not so much with a view to upholding the teaching of the Church but with getting good press coverage.

Much of what I have written may seem wildly exaggerated and sensational, almost incredible, in fact. This will be particularly true for Catholics who derived their impression of the Council from such journals as Time, Commonweal or the New Yorker. Most people read their journals too uncritically, and presume that why they are reading is objective reporting. There is thus a received view of the Council, in which the liberals are the good guys, and such conservatives as Cardinal Ottaviani are the bad guys. This view is now so firmly established that anyone who challenges it is considered to lack any credibility.

The Heresy of Inevitability

The view that Vatican II was the greatest event in the history of the Church, and brought it out of darkness into an era of renewal and enlightenment, is constantly reiterated in almost every official Catholic journal in the English-speaking world, and the odds against anyone who challenges this consensus getting a hearing, let alone being taken seriously, are minimal—if they exist at all. Paul Hallett, the most outstanding lay journalist in the U.S.A., was recently kind enough to provide an introduction for a book I had written on Modernism. In it he remarks:

Once you get someone to think that something is inevitable, the chances are that he will be hypnotized by the thought a long time, perhaps forever. I recall how one of my co-workers in The Register just after Vatican II kept urging a policy for the paper in tune with the post-conciliar fever: "It just has to be," he repeated, "it's inevitable." There is no more powerful influence on the psyche than this feeling of irresistible change. It creates such a strong impression on many minds that it breaks down all will to resist the tide of opinion.

Andrew Greeley has noted with great satisfaction that each time American Catholics are polled on the issue of women priests, the percentage in favor increases significantly. The reason is clearly that the ordination of women is beginning to appear to be inevitable. This impression of inevitability also answer the question posed by Msgr. Kearney, which was posed in the first article in this series, i.e., why was his parish alone in resisting the removal of the tabernacle from the high altar when every parish should have done so? It was happening everywhere, it was inevitable, so what was the point of resisting?

The Vatican II Bandwagon

The euphoric spirit of Vatican II generated a bandwagon effect during the Council itself, and when a bandwagon rolls along it takes tremendous strength of character to avoid jumping aboard. Those who do resist the temptation must face the prospect of appearing isolated and irrelevant as they are left behind while the bandwagon thunders away on its triumphant progress, overflowing with passengers, ecstatic at their sense of relevance. What a lonely figure Archbishop Lefebvre must have made when he let the conciliar bandwagon pass him by; but the despised and hunted Athanasius was a lonely figure too, and there was no bishop more lonely than St. John Fisher when he placed his head upon the block for failing to board the episcopal bandwagon that proclaimed Henry VIII as Supreme Head of the Church in England. But who, it is interesting to reflect, appears relevant today: the bandwagon bishops of the fourth and sixteenth centuries, or Saints Athanasius and John Fisher?

If it takes moral courage to resist climbing onto an accelerating bandwagon, it takes even more courage to jump off when it has gathered momentum and is carrying all before it. This is just what Archbishop R.J. Dwyer of Portland, Oregon, did. He admitted that, at the time the Council was all good fun; that he voted as the other bishops did without thinking; and that in this way he saved himself a great deal of trouble. Archbishop Dwyer was as orthodox a bishop as Archbishop Lefebvre. He would never have voted for anything which he imagined might harm his beloved Church, and yet he voted for documents which, to quote Cardinal Heenan's remark apropos Pope John XXIII, "provided an excuse for rejecting so much of the Catholic doctrine which he wholeheartedly accepted." Why then did he vote for the documents? In order to answer this question we must return to the subject of the conciliar experts, the periti.

Time Bombs in the Texts

The periti, the theologians who wished to bring the Church into line with contemporary thought, knew that there was no hope whatsoever of persuading a majority of bishops to vote in favor of their more radical objectives. They thus inserted what Archbishop Lefebvre has described as "time bombs" into the texts of the documents. Much of the teaching of the Council is very traditional, some passages are even inspiring, and this fact more than anything else contributed to the success of the time bomb strategy of some periti. They decided to insert ambiguous phrases into the documents which they would be able to interpret in the way they wanted after the Council, when they obtained influential positions on the commissions which would be set up to implement it. Pope John XXIII had stated clearly that the teaching of his Council was to conform with that of its predecessors, and the only legitimate manner to interpret an ambiguous text is in accordance with Tradition. Pope John Paul II has said that it is his intention that the Council should be interpreted in this way, and Archbishop Lefebvre has affirmed that if the Council is interpreted in this manner he would have no difficulty in accepting it. But, in practice, those infected with the spirit of Vatican II do not have the remotest interest in Tradition. Where they are concerned, the Council means whatever those driving the bandwagon say that it means, and in the U.S.A. at present such men as Charles Curran, Raymond Brown, Richard McBrien, and Andrew Greeley, are firmly in the driver's seat with such prelates as Hunthausen and Weakland and Gerety and Sullivan of Kansas City and Sullivan of Richmond, riding shotgun to protect them from the isolated orthodox Catholic who might try to impede its progress. Commentators of every viewpoint, liberal and conservative, have testified to the existence of ambiguities in conciliar texts. I list a good number in Chapter VI of my book, Pope John's Council. Professor Oscar Cullman was the most respected of the Protestant Observers, and he accepted that the conciliar documents were "compromise texts" which were "formulated in such a manner that no door was closed." Msgr. George Kelly, in his now classic book, The Battle for the American Church, states that: "The documents of the Council contain enough basic ambiguities to make the postconciliar difficulties understandable" (p. 20). Cardinal Heenan expressed concern at the manner in which: "A determined group could wear down opposition and produce a formula patient of both an orthodox and modernistic interpretation." He warned of the power of the periti being allowed to interpret the mind of the Council to the world: "God forbid that this should happen!" he exclaimed. But it is precisely what did happen, and the results were disastrous.

What did the Council Command?

This brings us to the precise points under discussion in this article, i.e., what the conciliar documents and post-conciliar legislation made mandatory concerning Mass facing the people, redesigning sanctuaries, and moving the tabernacle. We will first examine the legislation of the Council itself. This is found in the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium, 4 December 1963). The possibility of Mass being celebrated facing the people is not so much as mentioned anywhere in this Constitution, and so to talk of the practice being introduced as an act of obedience to the Council is either a deliberate lie or denotes culpable ignorance. Similarly, there is not so much as a word hinting that tabernacles should be torn from their place of honor on the high altar, which is what has happened in almost every church in the English-speaking world. The very thought of such an outrage would have horrified most, if not all, of the bishops. The idea that the ambiguous passages would be used in the way they have been never so much as occurred to the over whelming majority.

The Latin Connection

The case of Latin in the liturgy provides a helpful parallel with what has happened in the sanctuary. The intention of the Liturgy Constitution is clear: Latin is to remain the norm but the vernacular can be introduced into parts of the Mass where it is thought pastorally desirable. Most bishops imagined that such exceptions would only be during the first part of the Mass, now usually referred to as the Liturgy of the Word. Xavier Rynne, the ultra-liberal commentator on the Council, concedes that this was the impression the bishops were given. Cardinal Heenan testifies that when the bishops voted for the Constitution they did not foresee "that Latin would virtually disappear from Catholic churches." Archbishop Dwyer of Portland remarked: "The very thought of it would have horrified us, but it seemed so far beyond the realm of the possible as to be ridiculous. So we laughed it off." But within a few years a few ambiguous phrases appearing to do no more than allow a limited use of the vernacular in certain parts of the Mass had been utilized to banish Latin from the liturgy throughout the Latin Rite.

The Barbarians' Charter

Paragraph 128 of the Liturgy Constitution could well be described as a charter authorizing the liturgical barbarians to enter the sanctuaries of our churches to wreak havoc at their will. It reads as follows:

Along with the revision of the liturgical books, as laid down in Article 25, there is to be an early revision of the canons and ecclesiastical statutes which govern the disposition of material things involved in sacred worship. These laws refer especially to the worth and well-planned construction of sacred buildings, the shape and construction of altars, the nobility, location and security of the Eucharistic tabernacle, the suitability and dignity of the baptistery, the proper use of sacred images, embellishments, and vestments. Laws which seem less suited to the reformed liturgy are to be brought into harmony with it, or else abolished; and any which are helpful are to be retained if already in use, and introduced where they are lacking.

According to the norm of Article 22 of the Constitution, the territorial bodies of bishops are empowered to adapt matters to the needs and customs of their different regions; this applies especially to the materials and form of sacred furnishings and vestments.

I am sure that the first reaction of the reader will be to insist that describing this passage as a charter for liturgical barbarism is not simply unfair but ridiculous. Nonetheless, if you ask a bishop who has vandalized the sanctuary of his cathedral, or has ordered a parish priest to vandalize the sanctuary of his church, how he can claim the sanction of Vatican II for such barbarism, he will almost certainly refer you to this paragraph. Read it carefully once more, look for one little word which the bishops would hardly have noticed when glancing through the draft of the Constitution before casting their almost unanimous vote in its favor: "location." Yes, reference is made to the location of the tabernacle. There is not a word in the Constitution which says tabernacles should be removed, let alone a direct command to do so, but that one little word—"location"—has been used to justify the greatest act of disrespect to our Eucharistic King since the Protestant Reformers banished Him from the churches they had appropriated in the sixteenth century. To a certain extent I have more respect for them than for the pseudo-Catholic bishops who claim to believe in the Real Presence, and then thrust the Blessed Sacrament aside from Its traditional position of honor on the high altar.

It would be most unjust to censure the many orthodox bishops who voted for the Liturgy Constitution for failing to notice the time bombs it contained. If you had described what has happened in almost every sanctuary since the Council to one of the bishops in 1963, he would have laughed at you. As Archbishop Dwyer said concerning the possibility of Latin vanishing from the Mass, "it seemed so far beyond the realm of the possible as to be ridiculous." There also appeared to be more than adequate safeguard in the Constitution itself to prevent the possibility of abuses. Article 23 stated: "There must be no innovations unless the good of the Church genuinely and certainly requires them; and care must be taken that any new forms adopted should in some way grow organically from forms already existing." Could anyone in his right mind even suggest that the universal vandalism of Catholic sanctuaries was genuinely and certainly demanded by the good of the Church? And just before Article 128, the Barbarians' Charter, Article 123 had stated: "In the course of centuries the Church has brought into existence a treasury of sacred art which must be preserved with every care." Article 124 stated: "When churches are to be built, let great care be taken that they be suitable for the celebration of services and for the active participation of the faithful." Note carefully that this article refers only to the building of new churches; there is no reference to adapting existing ones. Article 126 commands bishops to insure that "sacred furnishings and works of value are not disposed of or destroyed, for they are ornaments in God's house." With such safeguards included in the Constitution, how could any bishop possibly have foreseen that Article 128 could serve as a charter for barbarism?

The Liturgical Establishment

Before leaving the subject of Vatican II it must be stressed once more that its Liturgy Constitution definitely does not order, recommend, or even hint, that Mass should be celebrated facing the people, or that the tabernacle should be removed from its place of honor on the high altar. But at the same time, it included some ambiguous terminology which those wishing to destroy the Catholic ethos of our sanctuaries could twist to suit their purposes. After the Council five commissions were established as a result of pressure from Liberals who, "feared that the progressive measure adopted by the Council might be blocked by conservative forces near the Pope once the Council Fathers had all returned home." The members of these commissions were "chosen with the Pope's approval, for the most part, from the ranks of the Council periti. The task of the commissions is to put into effect the Council decrees concerned with the co-ordinating commission to co-ordinate their work and, when necessary, to interpret the Council constitutions, decrees and declarations." God forbid that the periti should ever obtain the power to interpret the Council, Cardinal Heenan had warned. But happen it had! Archbishop Dwyer observed, with hindsight, that the great mistake of the Council Fathers was "to allow the implementation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy to fall into the hands of men who were either unscrupulous or incompetent. This is the so-called 'liturgical establishment,' a Sacred Cow which acts more like a white elephant as it tramples the shards of a shattered liturgy with ponderous abandon." The final testimony to the factual nature of the process I have described comes from Cardinal Heenan: "Subsequent changes were more radical than those intended by Pope John and the bishops who passed the decree on the liturgy. His sermon at the end of the first session indicates that Pope John did not know what was being planned by the experts."

Nothing could be clearer than this. The experts drafting the constitution were planning changes more radical than those envisaged by the Pope and the bishops, and after the Council, they secured the implementation of those changes.

So much for Vatican II itself. We have established that it mandated no changes whatsoever in the sanctuary. Now we must examine the post-conciliar legislation to see what it recommended or permitted, and what it made mandatory.

Part IV

Michael Davies

In Part IV of his series, Michael Davies provides us with the documentation to answer the question raised in the first article which appeared in our February issue, i.e., was Msgr. Vincent Kearney of Christ the King Parish in Kansas City, Missouri, disobeying any valid Church law in refusing to remove the tabernacle from the high altar of his church? In order to evaluate the evidence, our readers will need to pay close attention to extracts from a series of documents which are sometimes confusing—intentionally so! They will find the effort well worth while.

IN THE APRIL Angelus we examined the Liturgy Constitution of the Second Vatican Council to discover what mandatory legislation it incorporated concerning the rearrangement of the sanctuary. We found that the Constitution itself did not order that any change whatsoever should be made in any existing sanctuary. The possibility of Mass being celebrated facing the people is not so much as hinted at; there is thus not even a suggestion that altars should be freestanding to make such a celebration possible. Where the tabernacle is concerned, there is not even the hint of a suggestion that it should be torn from its place of honor upon the high altar and demoted to a position of lesser honor. We can thus state with absolute certainty that not one of the changes made in Catholic sanctuaries can be justified as an act of obedience to the Second Vatican Council. We also noted that Article 124 of the Constitution recommended that any new churches built should be designed with a view to encouraging the active participation of the faithful; not a word was said on the subject of adapting existing churches. But Article 128 did contain some ambiguous terminology concerning the revision of laws relating to "the shape and construction of altars, the nobility, location and security of the Eucharistic tabernacle." In view of Article 124, it could be reasonably presumed that any such revisions would be applicable only to new churches, but we must concede that it does not rule out its application to existing ones. What we can be absolutely certain of is that few if any of the Fathers would have envisaged the possibility, let alone approved of, the crude vandalism perpetrated in tens of thousands of sanctuaries as a direct result of the calculated exploitation of this ambiguous passage.

What we must now discover is whether any of this barbarism can be attributed to a mandatory law in the post-conciliar Church. What I mean by mandatory legislation is that a binding and unambiguous law exists commanding bishops to ensure that altars in their diocese are freestanding, and that tabernacles are removed from the high altar. In particular we must distinguish such a binding command from a permission to do something, or a recommendation to do something. We can thus distinguish as follows:

1. Altars may be freestanding; tabernacles may be removed from the high altar—permission.

2. Altars should be freestanding; tabernacles should be removed from the high altar—recommendation.

3. Altars must be freestanding; tabernacles must be removed from the high altar—command.

The Authority of Legislation

Before examining the post-conciliar liturgical legislation, we must note that in Church as in State, not all legislation carries the same degree of authority. If, for example, in the U.S.A. a law passed by a state legislature conflicted with the Constitution of the United States, then that law would have to be interpreted in the light of the Constitution, and, where necessary, reconciled with it. Where ecclesiastical law is concerned, a Conciliar Constitution holds the highest rank in the hierarchy of canonical sources. Only a pope or another council can abrogate it, obrogate it, or derogate from it.1 Conciliar constitutions receive the specific approval of the Roman Pontiff and hence are equivalent to a Pontifical Law. However all legislation which emanates from Vatican Congregations is approved by the Pope, but—and this is a crucially important point—very little of this legislation possesses the status of Pontifical Law. In most cases this approval is a mere formality. The various Roman Congregations promulgate so much legislation that the pope could not possibly find the time to read through it all, let alone study it carefully. For this reason, even though all legislation of the Roman Congregations is approved by the Pope, it must be considered as an act of the Congregation which issued it unless the Pope has made it clear that he wishes to make it a specifically papal act.

How do we know when the Pope has decided to transform an act of a Roman Congregation into a Pontifical act?2 There are certain forms of words which are normally employed, e.g., ex certa scientia, from certain knowledge; ex plenitudine potestatis apostolicae, from the fullness of Apostolic power; motu proprio, by a special motion. But the Pope is not limited to any specific form of words, what matters is that he clearly wishes to attach the full weight of his authority to the legislation, making it a Pontifical act rather than of a particular congregation.

There are two forms of pontifical confirmation of acts emanating from inferior organs of government. They are confirmatio in forma communi and confirmatio in forma specifica. In the first case, forma communi, the papal approval is no more than a legal formality; the legislation remains the legislation of the Congregation concerned and is not a Pontifical law. This is a fact which has considerable legal significance. Suppose a Congregation promulgated legislation, approved by the Pope in forma communi, which conflicted with an existing papal or conciliar law, or sought to introduce principles conflicting with such laws, what would the legal position be? In such a case the Congregation would be acting ultra vires, beyond the scope of its authority, and the existing law would retain its force. However, if papal approval is given to the new legislation in forma specifica, it must be presumed that the Pope has taken cognizance of the conflict between this legislation and the existing law, and that by making the new legislation his own, the former law has ceased to apply (it has been obrogated or derogated).

An obvious application of this principle is the position of the tabernacle. All the legislation which will be considered in this article was promulgated under the old Code of Canon Law, the New Code not having been promulgated until 1983. The old Code stated that the tabernacle should be placed in the center of the high altar (in media parte altaris posito) except in cathedral or conventual churches where the office is chanted in the sanctuary, when it would be placed on a side altar (see Canons 1268 and 1269). In such cases, Canon Law prescribed "the altar at which the Most Blessed Sacrament is kept must be more beautifully adorned than any other, so that by its very appointments, it may the more effectively move the faithful to piety and devotion." The ruling given in the Canon Law of the Church was reinforced on 3 September 1965, when Pope Paul VI published his encyclical letter Mysterium Fidei, which was a papal act, and hence of superior status to any of the post-conciliar legislation. Pope Paul felt it his duty to write this encyclical because, before the Council had even ended, dangerous views concerning the Holy Eucharist were circulating, doing "great harm to belief in the Divine Eucharist and its worship." Pope Paul reminded the faithful of the entire world that: "Liturgical laws prescribe that the Blessed Sacrament be kept in churches with the greatest honor and in the most distinguished position."3 The dangerous views condemned by Pope Paul VI had been evident even before the Council. In 1956 Pope Pius XII commanded that the prescriptions of Canons 1268 and 1269 to be "most faithfully observed." He did so in an address to the International Congress on Pastoral Liturgy, 22 September 1956. In the same address he warned of those wishing to lessen the esteem for the presence of Christ in the tabernacle, particularly through removing the tabernacle from the altar where Mass is celebrated: "To separate tabernacle from altar is to separate two things which by their origin and their nature should remain united."

The Tabernacle in Post-conciliar Legislation

We shall consider legislation affecting the tabernacle and the altar separately, dealing with the tabernacle first. The first, and perhaps most authoritative of the relevant documents is the Instruction on Putting into Effect the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, usually referred to as Inter oecumenici, dated 26 September 1964. The relevant paragraphs are nn. 90-99. It has been claimed that these paragraphs were originally intended to form part of the Council's Liturgy Constitution itself. Even if this is correct, the fact is that these paragraphs did not appear in the Constitution and thus come to us only with the authority of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, and not with that of the Council itself. From a legal standpoint, this is absolutely indisputable. Well, what does Inter oecumenici have to say about the tabernacle? The answer can be found in n. 95 of the Instruction:

The Blessed Sacrament is to be reserved in a solid, burglar-proof tabernacle in the center of the high altar or of another altar if this is really outstanding or distinguished. Where there is a lawful custom, and in particular cases to be approved by the local ordinary, the Blessed Sacrament may be reserved in some other place in the church; but it must be a very special place, having nobility about it, and it must be suitably decorated.

Well, then, what action was Monsignor Vincent Kearney of Christ the King Parish in Kansas City, Missouri, obliged to take concerning his tabernacle in order to conform to this Instruction? The answer is clear, he was obliged to leave it upon the high altar. The Instruction contains no command that the tabernacle must be moved; it contains no recommendation that it should be moved; it simply grants a permission that it may be situated in some other place where a lawful custom existed, but no such custom existed in Kansas City, Missouri. What the Instruction does, in fact, is to confirm the legislation in Canon Law that, as a general rule, the tabernacle must be situated in the center of the high altar.

Keeping to a chronological sequence, the next relevant document is one that has already been cited, the encyclical letter Mysterium Fidei of Pope Paul VI, dated 3 September 1965. This document is, as we have noted, a Pontifical Act and also restates the traditional legalization concerning the tabernacle.

The Instruction Eucharisticum mysterium

The Instruction on the Worship of the Eucharistic Mystery, Eucharisticum mysterium, which was published on 25 May 1967, is a key document in this investigation. It is, once again, an Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. In n. 54 it repeats n. 95 of Inter oecumenici, which has just been cited. This paragraph makes it clear that, as a general rule, the tabernacle must be sited in the center of the high altar. However, in n. 53 it states that the place where the tabernacle is situated "ought to be suitable for private prayer" and "It is therefore recommended that, as far as possible, the tabernacle be placed in a chapel distinct from the middle or central part of the church above all in those churches where marriages and funerals take place frequently, and in places which are much visited for their artistic or historical treasures." In other words n. 53 contradicts n. 54!

The suspect nature of this Instruction is made even clearer in n. 55, where, in a statement without precedent in any official document of the Catholic Church, it actually suggests that Mass should not be celebrated on an altar with a tabernacle as "it is more in keeping with the nature of the celebration that the eucharistic presence of Christ, which is the fruit of the consecration, and should be seen as such, should not be on the altar from the very beginning of Mass through the reservation of the sacred species in the tabernacle." In other words, a suggestion which Pope Pius XII had condemned in 1956 as lessening esteem for the presence of Christ in the tabernacle, i.e., separating tabernacle and altar, is included in an official Church document just over a decade later.

It might be pertinent here to remember that although the post-conciliar legislation was promulgated by the Sacred Congregation of Rites, it had been drawn up by the Consilium, the committee which had the sinister Father Bugnini as its secretary. Father Bugnini had been dismissed from the Liturgical Preparatory Commission of Vatican II by Pope John XXIII for reasons which were never disclosed. He was reappointed as Secretary to the Consilium by Pope Paul VI in 1964, and eventually became Secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship in 1969. He was dismissed by Pope Paul VI under very abrupt and very mysterious circumstances in 1975. Once again the reasons were never disclosed, but very strong grounds exist for believing that it was because information was given to the Pope proving that Archbishop Bugnini as he then was, had been enrolled as a member of a masonic lodge. Archbishop Bugnini denied this emphatically, and it is not a matter upon which I wish to insist as part of the case I am presenting here, but the fact that the principal architect of the liturgical reform was dismissed by two popes for reasons they would not disclose gives us every reason to be uneasy about the reform itself.4 It is also alarming to reflect that six Protestants played a very active part in the work of the Consilium. It seems impossible to believe that six heretics were asked to advise the one holy, Catholic and apostolic Church on the reform of its liturgy, but nonetheless it is a fact. Archbishop Bugnini denied emphatically that the Observers had played an active role, a denial which was refuted by one of the Observers in his reply to a letter I had written to him asking for clarification on this matter.5

Returning to the subject of the Instruction Eucharisticum mysterium, what action did it oblige Monsignor Kearney to take concerning the position of the tabernacle? Well, n. 54 is quite explicit: the tabernacle is to be situated in the center of the high altar, which is precisely where Msgr. Kearney's tabernacle was sited. He was therefore in full conformity with the law of the Church, which was, in any case, as stated in Canons 1268 and 1269 of the Code of Canon Law. However, the Instruction also contained two recommendations contradicting its own n. 54; in n. 53 it recommended placing the tabernacle in a chapel distinct from the central part of the church, and in n. 55, it recommended that Mass should not be celebrated on an altar where there was a tabernacle. But these were only recommendations and in no way mandatory. It is very significant that this Instruction contains 121 references for its teaching and recommendations, but no reference whatsoever could be given for either of these recommendations as they are without precedent in the entire history of the Church, and represent a grave breach with Tradition.

The General Instruction on The Roman Missal

The General Instruction on the Roman Missal was promulgated together with the New Order of Mass by the Sacred Congregation of Rites on 6 April 1969. This Instruction was to replace the preliminary material in the existing Missal of St. Pius V, i.e., rubrics, defects to be avoided, etc. The General Instruction, like the other documents we have been examining, had been approved by Pope Paul VI in forma communi, but subsequent events made it clear that the Pope either had not seen the Instruction, or had done no more than glance through it, before approving its publication. It seems that he had ordered Father Bugnini to submit it to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith for examination, but that Father Bugnini had disobeyed him.6 The Instruction contained 341 articles, some of which were so flagrantly opposed to Tradition that they provoked immediate scandal among the faithful, and were condemned in a document endorsed by Cardinal Ottaviani, Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.7 This criticism was so well-founded that the Pope had no option but to order an immediate and thorough revision of the Instruction. The document listing the corrections and amendments needed over thirty pages to include them all.8 The deficiencies of the Instruction lie outside the scope of this article, but the fact that it had to be corrected so quickly and so radically provides a salutary lesson for those who claim that it is disloyal to criticize any document approved by the Pope. Such people, particularly bishops who are aware of the fact that approval in forma communi does not even guarantee that the Pope has read the document, invoke the emotive concept of papal authority as a dishonest ploy to divert the attention of the faithful from the un-catholic nature of much post-conciliar legislation.

We shall consider the General Instruction here only insofar as it refers to the position of the tabernacle. It does so in n. 276. The official ICEL translation of the original article contained two sentences:

1. It is highly recommended that the holy eucharist be reserved in a chapel suitable for private prayer.

2. If this is impossible because of the structure of the church or local custom, it should be kept on an altar or other place in the church that is prominent and properly decorated.

The words "and adoration" were added to the first sentence in the revised version published in 1970. A reference is provided for both these sentences. The reference for the first sentence is, of course, n. 53 of Eucharisticum mysterium, which has just been cited, recommending that the tabernacle should be placed in a separate chapel. The man responsible for Eucharisticum mysterium and the General Instruction was, of course. Father Bugnini. He introduced his recommendation that the tabernacle should be in a chapel separate from the high altar without a reference in the first document, because there was no precedent for such an outrageous suggestion. In the second document he had the temerity to quote himself as his own authority. As I explained earlier, an instruction contrary to existing legislation in a document which the Pope has approved only in forma communi can be regarded as ultra vires and disregarded. However there is no need to take this step as once again there is no command. Article 276 of the General Instruction does not command that the Blessed Sacrament must be reserved in a private chapel, it only recommends that it should be. It was thus unnecessary for Msgr. Kearney even to cite Canon Law, Mysterium Fidei, or Inter oecumenici to justify retaining the tabernacle on the high altar as the General Instruction did not command that it should be removed.

Sentence two contains two references in the footnotes. Sadly, very few priests would even have taken the trouble to glance at these footnotes, let alone verify them. The references mention two documents, Eucharisticum mysterium n. 54, and Inter oecumenici n. 95. Inter Oecumenici n. 95 has already been quoted in full, and it has also been explained that it is reproduced exactly in Eucharisticum mysterium n. 54, so in point of fact we are referred twice to the same statement. When we compare sentence two with the text to which the footnote refers us, the temerity of Father Bugnini can only be described as breathtaking. It might be more appropriate to describe the manner in which he has manipulated the text as the most arrogant form of insolence. He has, in fact, made sentence two of Article 276 say the opposite of Inter oecumenici n. 95, which he cites as his authority! This article states, as the reader can plainly see, that the tabernacle must be in the center of the high altar unless local custom dictates otherwise. Father Bugnini reverses this to state that it should only be placed on an altar if the structure of the church or local custom makes it impossible to locate it in a separate chapel. What is most depressing is the fact that not only did he think that he could get away with this, he actually did!

However, in reaching our final conclusion on legislation concerning the situation of the tabernacle, let us disregard the dubious background of Father Bugnini, let us disregard the fact that he was assisted by Protestant advisers, let us forget the fact that the documents we have cited are not Pontifical Laws, involving the fullness of papal authority. Let us take the General Instruction at its face value, let us presume that it is a binding papal document. In this case would it oblige Msgr. Kearney to remove his tabernacle from the high altar? By no means. As we have seen, sentence one of n. 276 does no more than recommend placing the tabernacle in a separate chapel; and as regards sentence two, Msgr. Kearney could claim without any possible fear of contradiction that the local custom in his parish was to keep the tabernacle in the place of honor upon the high altar as demanded by Canon Law, and in conformity with the clearly expressed wishes of Pope Pius XII in his address to the Liturgical Congress in 1956, and of Pope Paul VI in his encyclical Mysterium Fidei in 1965.

It should also be noted that n. 95 of Inter oecumenici instructed that if the tabernacle is not situated in the center of the high altar, it must be situated in "a very special place, having nobility about, and it must be suitably decorated." If Bishops Sullivan and Fitzsimmons of Kansas City claim that the squalid brick pedestal upon which the tabernacle has been placed in the Church of Christ the King fits this description, then their talent for manipulating texts is equivalent to that of Archbishop Bugnini.

An Objection Answered

Before leaving the subject of the tabernacle I would like to answer an argument which is sometimes used to justify demoting it from its position of honor on the high altar. When the faithful complain about the perpetration of such an outrage in their own parish, they will often be referred to a well-known church such as Westminster Cathedral in London, where the Blessed Sacrament has always been reserved in a separate chapel. As we have seen, such a situation was allowed for in Canon Law, and was normally due to the fact that the sanctuary was used regularly for the choral office. But there is no valid comparison between a situation where there has always been a Blessed Sacrament Chapel to the demotion of the Blessed Sacrament from what Pope Paul described as "the most distinguished position" in Mysterium Fidei. The Concise Oxford Dictionary defines "demote" as "reduce to a lower rank or class." There is thus every justification for using the verb "demote" to describe the removal of the tabernacle from the high altar to a separate chapel, let alone to a squalid brick pedestal. What we can say about the priest, cited in the February Angelus, who claimed that this act of barbarism in the Church of Christ the King represented placing the tabernacle in "a clearer place of honor," I cannot imagine. It is probably more charitable not to say anything.

Conclusion Concerning the Tabernacle

We are now in a position to pass a balanced judgment on the startling claim by Msgr. Kearney which was cited in the February Angelus. His reason for refusing to remove his tabernacle from the high altar in the Church of Christ the King was as follows:

"It should have happened in every other parish," he declared. "The people were brainwashed and lied to when they were told we have to make these changes and that the Pope wanted the tabernacle moved. The mystery is not why Christ the King didn't do it, but why the others did!

"The priests were also misled into believing that the changes were inevitable and necessary, but when we started investigating we found that these things were not mandatory." (My emphasis.)

A spokesman for the Diocese of Kansas City-St. Joseph attempted to refute Msgr. Kearney by pointing out that he was in a minority of one among the priests of the diocese. This may well have been true, but although in a minority of one, Msgr. Kearney was correct, and his detractors wrong. He thus finds himself in the excellent company of St. Athanasius and St. John Fisher. We can state with absolute certainty that, even in the confused atmosphere of the Conciliar Church, there is no mandatory legislation emanating from Rome at any level commanding parish priests to remove the tabernacle from the high altar of his church. How ironic it is that priests who refuse to remove their tabernacles from the high altar are themselves removed from their parishes. Thus speaks the Conciliar Church!

1. For the meaning of these terms see "The Legal Status of the Tridentine Mass," available from The Angelus Press at $2.00 post paid.

2. By a "congregation" is meant the equivalent of a ministry in the British government, e.g., the Ministry of Health, the Foreign Ministry, the Ministry of Education. In the Vatican, we have the Congregation for the Clergy, the Congregation for the Sacraments and Divine Worship, the Congregation for Religious, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.

3. Unfortunately the New Code, published in 1983, is less specific, and is clearly a case of the law being modified to conform to its non-observance. The tabernacle is now rarely located in the most distinguished place in the church, and so the law has been changed to specify only a distinguished place. Canon 938(2) states: "The tabernacle in which the Blessed Eucharist is reserved should be sited in a distinguished place in the church or oratory, a place which is conspicuous, suitably adorned, and conducive to prayer." However, as the sanctuary changes to which we are referring were made before the promulgation of the New Code it is irrelevant to the discussion. But, if we take the New Code into account, in how many churches today is the tabernacle in a distinguished place, which is suitably adorned, and conducive to prayer?

4. The full story of Archbishop Bugnini can be found in Chapter XXIV of my book Pope Paul's New Mass.

5. The facts concerning the Protestant Observers can be found in Appendix III of Pope Paul's New Mass.

6. See Pope Paul's New Mass, p. 5 06.

7. See Pope Paul's New Mass, Chapter XXIII.

8. See Pope Paul's New Mass, Chapter XIII

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