First, those who love the traditional Mass are excluded, and then they are accused of excluding. They are set apart, and then that marginalization is used as proof that they are “divisive.” It is a perfect circle of exclusion and blame. But the reality should be precisely the opposite: when the Vetus Ordo coexists with the ordinary form, it does not generate division, but rather a fruitful balance. This is what Benedict XVI stated in Summorum Pontificum and in his letter to the bishops: the two forms of the Roman rite should not be in conflict, but should coexist in peace. Where this has been correctly applied, parishes and seminaries have filled again.
Since 1969, the liturgy has undergone notable crises: abuses, improvisations, trivialization of the sacred, loss of the sense of sacrifice. In this context, the traditional rite acts as a liturgical katechon, a restraining force that preserves the continuity of the faith, the centrality of worship, and respect for mystery. Its presence does not divide, but rather balances; and it reminds the whole Church that the liturgy is not a human experiment, but a gift received. At the same time, the Novus Ordo makes it easier for certain texts and prayers to be heard and apprehended better in a de-Christianized society, without renouncing the depth that has shaped Catholic worship for centuries.
A dead-end fallacy
Communities that celebrate the traditional Mass are blamed for faults that do not belong to the rites, but to human frailty. They are accused of feeling superior, of judging or dividing, as if one way of celebrating carried with it moral sins. It is a fallacy that stems from a logical error: the words or attitudes of individuals are taken and projected onto a millenary rite. This criterion operates asymmetrically: no one judges the Novus Ordo for the excesses of those who trivialize the mystery or spread opinions openly contrary to doctrine; on the other hand, it is enough for one faithful of the Vetus Ordo to express himself clumsily for a spirit of division to be attributed to the entire rite.
This asymmetry reveals that the problem lies, not in the liturgy, but in the ideological reading of the liturgy. It is a fallacy with no way out because it appeals not to reason or truth, but to impressions and fears. Rites do not judge or become conceited; men do. And where man is weak, the liturgy—celebrated with reverence—actually corrects, educates, and elevates.
By their fruits you shall know them
This issue should not be resolved with suspicion or feelings, but in light of the fruits. How many priestly and religious vocations arise in communities linked to the Vetus Ordo? How many large families, faithful to the sacraments, live their faith with joy, order, and a spirit of service? In proportional terms, the spiritual fruits originated from Summorum Pontificum are of such magnitude that they can only be explained supernaturally. Where the traditional liturgy is celebrated, vocations flourish, frequent confession grows, and family life is strengthened.
To ignore these facts is to close one's eyes to the action of the Holy Spirit. One cannot continue to argue with vague accusations while silencing the visible fruits of grace. Go to traditional seminaries, make a pilgrimage to Chartres, Covadonga, Luján, or any other pilgrimage where the traditional Mass draws thousands of young people: you will breathe love for the Church, fidelity to the Pope, devotion to the sacraments, and the joy of belonging to the Body of Christ. There is no division or exclusivity, but rather an intensely lived communion. It is impossible for a spirit of pride or rupture to produce such lives of dedication.
The “boomer fear” and the decline of an argument
Much of the resistance to the Vetus Ordo stems from a generational fear, more sociological than theological, inherited from the 1970s: fear that “the priest will turn his back on me,” that “I won't understand the language,” or that “the community will lose its prominence.” Those of us born after 1990 no longer buy into that 1970s rhetoric. We do not aspire to be Eucharistic ministers or to play a leading role in a horizontal rite. We do not feel closer to the Mass because a parishioner reads the readings or because the priest improvises. We seek the opposite: the permanent, the eternal, the mystery, the timeless, a form that transcends us and displaces us from the center.
The arguments used to dismantle the traditional Mass have aged poorly. The cracks are visible in the light of time and the fruits. Although some—figures such as Cupich—continue to write letters with those old slogans, a calm and intellectually honest analysis no longer supports that framework. The young people who fill seminaries linked to the traditional rite do not long for an idealized past: they seek depth, coherence, and Truth. That is why the traditional Mass, far from being a relic, appears today as a sign of hope and real unity.
[Source: Spanish]
