Facing God, Rooted in Christ: On Tradition and Orthodoxy
The always remembered Pope Benedict XVI — whom it is quite possible will one day be declared a Doctor of the Church — sought, through his Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum of July 7, 2007, on the two uses of the one Roman Rite in its ordinary and extraordinary forms, to liberalize the celebration of the Mass commonly called "traditional," "Tridentine," "of Saint Pius V," or "the Mass of all time." He did so with the aim of contributing to liturgical peace and out of the respect owed to an ancient and venerable usage. In this way, any priest could celebrate the "Latin Mass" without need of special permissions and without risk of ideologically motivated reprisals from certain bishops.
In the letter to the world's bishops that accompanied the Motu Proprio, the Pontiff emphasized that what was sacred for previous generations remains sacred and great for us as well, and cannot suddenly be entirely forbidden or even deemed harmful. God alone knows how much the German Pope suffered when, fourteen years later, on July 16, 2021, his successor in the pontificate revoked that legislation with a stroke of the pen and imposed draconian restrictions on the Vetus Ordo. Something of that suffering has been revealed in recent days by the one who was his faithful personal secretary, Archbishop Georg Gänswein.
Traditionis Custodes, issued five years ago, far from closing wounds, only deepened them. And contrary to what its promoter sought, it contributed to a growing interest in Tradition and Orthodoxy — especially among the young. Today, a good portion of conversions occur among those who prefer the ancient use. And the transmission of the faith, to a significant degree, is no longer passed from parents to children but from young people to young people. I recall here what I have said on so many occasions: I was ordained a priest in 1972 according to the Novus Ordo, and I have never celebrated in the extraordinary form.
The Mystery, without question, continues to captivate hearts. And before a world of liquid relationships, drowning in emptiness and dehumanization — a world that arrogantly claims to live in post-truth, post-humanism, and post-Christianity — Christ, the Way, the Truth, and the Life (Jn 14:6), reasserts all his rights. He shows that through him, facing the Father, in the Holy Spirit, human existence finds its full meaning, in view of the better Future that awaits. The Pauline exhortation to the Colossians thus resonates with renewed vigor: Rooted and built up in him, and established in the faith (Col 2:7). It is a matter, then, of not allowing oneself to be enslaved by the emptiness of a deceptive philosophy inspired by purely human traditions and the elements of the world rather than by Christ (cf. Col 2:8).
It is not, therefore, persecution or the extreme measures of progressivism that will be able to stop this growing movement — which, as we have seen, goes far beyond mere fashion. For the fashion over the past sixty years has been to make of the Novus Ordo — even contrary to what Sacrosanctum Concilium mandated — an anything-goes vehicle of liturgical devastation.
The four Eucharistic Prayers of the reformed Missal seem to have been displaced by "Eucharistic Prayer Zero" — that is, whatever happens to occur to the celebrant of the moment. That and other doctrinal, moral, and disciplinary collapses emptied the seminaries and convents, unleashed massive desertions from the clergy and religious life, and opened a hemorrhage in the Church. In this way various evangelical denominations grew — nourished by scandalized Catholics. The ranks of unbelievers swelled as well, as did those who claim no affiliation with any religion. In Argentina, for example, over the past six decades the proportion of Catholics fell from ninety percent to fifty-seven — and with a continuing downward trend. This is where modernism has brought us, along with the Rahnerian "anthropological turn," liberation theology, and its local Argentine variant, the theology of the people. A pattern that, as can be observed, repeats itself with different variations across many countries. A people without sound theology ends up not knowing God — and the social consequences of this are dramatic.
Something striking: little is preached in the Church today about eternal life, the Last Things, and the glorious coming of Our Lord. Meanwhile, certain tech magnates speak of the Antichrist and organize gatherings with businessmen and the powerful to protect themselves from it. The "Silicon Valley apocalypse" maintains that the earth is no longer a safe place — and that not even Mars, where they seek to relocate, will be safe, since even there, they fear, an uncontrolled and vengeful artificial intelligence will eventually arrive. Who would have imagined, just a few years ago, that we would be witnessing this?
It is no easy matter, beyond any doubt, to heal so many ills of the ecclesial body — ills that were aggravated during the second decade and well into the third of this century. The time has come for greatness, for doctrinal solidity, and for the consequent restoration of discipline — without favoritism or ideologically skewed perspectives. There is much talk of reading the signs of the times and of knowing how to listen. Would that today we might hear the voice of the Lord and not harden our hearts (cf. Ps 95:7–8).
I am eighty-three years old and I live in a priests' home — something like a nursing home for clergy. I move very little and almost never leave my room, except to go to the chapel. I know that very soon the Lord will call me to his presence — him whom I sought to love and serve in the best way I could, even with my sins and limitations. And for that accounting, I am trying to prepare myself with more prayer and the offering of my present sufferings.
In this twilight of my life, one of the greatest satisfactions remaining to me is that of having ordained, as Archbishop of La Plata, forty-nine priests and three deacons on their way to the priesthood. Several of them — young and courageous, zealous guardians of sound doctrine — are today serving in growing communities characterized by careful liturgy, patient pastoral attention, and missionary zeal. From these communities vocations are emerging for the whole Church: for marriage and family, for the priesthood and religious life. They and their spiritual children constitute a great part of the consolation and hope of this elderly bishop.
