Rorate Caeli
Showing posts with label Angelico Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angelico Press. Show all posts

New Book Tells the Dramatic Story of Traditionalist Movement in the USA

In many conversations online and in person about the situation in which we traditional Catholics find ourselves in 2022, one thing I have seen again and again is a temptation to discouragement or despair on account of the threat—or the reality—of that which we love being torn out of our churches, our towns, our families.

Traditionalist Publishing Renaissance (3): Angelico releases definitive book on Medjugorje, among other new titles

As Rorate has before featured announcements of new books from St. Augustine Academy Press and Arouca Press, so too we have mentioned the premiere traditionalist publisher in English, Angelico Press. The “Catholic Traditionalist Classics” series, for example, includes Fr. Bryan Houghton’s Mitre and Crook and Judith’s Marriage as well as Tito Casini’s The Torn Tunic. With many new titles having been released by Angelico in recent months, it is high time for a brief presentation of ten of them. Some of the following short reviews are in my own words and some are publisher descriptions (I will indicate which is which).

The Best Book on Its Subject: Dr. John Pepino Reviews Fiedrowicz’s The Traditional Mass

Michael Fiedrowicz.
The Traditional Mass. History, Form, and Theology of the Classical Roman Rite. Translated from the German by Rose Pfeifer. Brooklyn, NY: Angelico Press, 2020; xvi + 331 pages. ISBN 978-1621385240.

The reader interested in the traditional Roman liturgy and its place in the Roman-rite Church today ought to possess this most recent monograph on the Roman liturgy from Angelico Press. Certainly I hope that it finds its way into the hands of all Roman rite seminarians in the English world, not to mention pastors, and even bishops. It would help topple any number of sacred cows that stand in the way of a clear-eyed assessment of the two “forms of the Roman Rite.”   In fact, one finds oneself wishing that its analyses had been broadly available to the bishops before the promulgation of the Novus Ordo Missae . . . .

While Fiedrowicz is Germanic in his scholarly rigor and precision, at 331 pages his book is not a daunting tome. Furthermore, it is accessible even to the moderately informed layman and  manages to cover all the basic facts in its first 231 pages: Part I, “History,” tracks the development of this rite from its second-century beginnings to the twentieth century; Part II, “Form,” describes the rite from an external point of view (the degrees of solemnity, the structure of the Mass, the liturgical year, Latin as a liturgical language, ceremonies, rubrics, etc.). Its third and last part, “Theology” (pp. 233-304), shows how the traditional Latin Mass is formally a monument of Tradition, that is, an artifact which hands down revelation; the author calls it “celebrated dogma.” The book closes with a selective bibliography arranged by topic and a couple of indices (persons; subjects). In a word, it is a timely introduction to the Roman Church’s perennial Mass. 

The timeliness of Fiedrowicz’s work is partly due to his use of both pre- and post- conciliar sources: the canonical names are there, of course (Lebrun, Guéranger, Bruylants, Battifol, Jungmann, Schuster, Botte, Parsch, Mohrmann . . .), but also, and always advisedly, the heroes of the epic post-conciliar era of liturgical resistance scholarship (Gamber, Calmel, Madiran, Davies . . .), and naturally contemporary scholarship too (Barthe, Jackson, Kwasniewski, Lang, Mosebach, Nichols, Pristas, Reid, the Proceedings of the yearly CIEL conferences . . .). Even as recently published a contribution as Joseph Shaw’s important The Case for Liturgical Restoration (2019) is on the roster. Those who have recognized these names will also have noticed the international scope of the author’s scholarship: because he is a German speaker with a good command of French and English, this translation of his work gives to the English-reading public access to sources, scholarship, and insights not normally within close reach.

This is not to say that Fiedrowicz has no insights of his own. On the contrary, here is a priest who has not only read much, but also thought much, about the Roman rite of the Mass. The title of his book, for instance, reflects his own conclusions on the name by which one ought to call the Mass under study: “Traditional Mass” is his pick,  but he also finds “the Mass of All Times” to be a “lovely expression” (p. 46), and approves of  “the Classical Rite.” These terms all reflect an organic development culminating in the 1570 Missal, the “final outcome of a long evolution” (p. 55, relying on Guéranger, Newman, Bouyer, and Reid). As for the novel expressions “Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite” and Usus antiquior—they are tied to our present context and are called to disappear . . . . Near the end of the book the author names the Mass as contained in the Missal that Paul VI promulgated the “recreated form” (p. 301), a nearly apt moniker.

The book reads as a celebration—if not a defense—of the traditional Mass. In this respect, it constitutes a long-overdue response to the attacks issuing from the liturgical establishment since World War Two and repeated to this day as a distraction from the obvious deficiencies of the Novus Ordo Missae. Fiedrowicz, a gentleman scholar, is never blunt; he rather lets the contrast between the old and the new speak for itself. His first disparagement, if one can call it so, of the NOM comes as a quotation from Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger on the shift from the priest’s peccata mea (traditional) to peccata nostra (new Mass) during the Pax. One could draw up an exhaustive list of traditional elements that Fiedrowicz both explains and celebrates and that the NOM dropped, but the following examples will suffice: the importance of the Octave of Pentecost and Ember days; the relevance of “stational” Masses; the artistry of the Latin prayers; the excellence of the Offertory (responding to Dom Oury’s now-conventional defense of the NOM Offertory) . . . .

In the same vein, The Traditional Mass is a response to much of the (often dated) litnik scholarship that served as basis and excuse for the elaboration of the form created in the late 1960s. Generally speaking the author is unimpressed with the results of mid-century liturgical scholarship, which have time and again been proven wrong or at least exaggerated (p. 211).  Perhaps the most refreshing and, from the point of view of principles, satisfying argument is his tackling the (often unspoken) principle according to which the liturgical scholar’s knowledge of the first recorded mention of a ceremony or practice grants him license to dismiss it and call for its suppression (p. 209, n. 45). Here Fiedrowicz correctly points to a well-known principle of other human sciences (philology, linguistics, archaeology, etc.) that the first formal mention of a custom does not provide the date for its introduction, but rather usually reflects an already long-standing, if formally unrecorded, tradition.

Fiedrowicz’s cool argumentation goes on to explode a number1960s liturgical-scholarly shibboleths: the invocation of St. Cyril of Jerusalem for Communion in the hand (p. 115); the antiquity of the versus populum stance (p. 148), in the refutation of which he gets at the operative principle in one of his many golden lines, “the principal purpose of the liturgy is not dialogue, but collective worship”; the flaws of the Vulgate as liturgical text (p. 178); the unfittingness of the term “Gregorian” chant; the inability of the traditional Mass to include active participation (although the popes from St. Pius X to Pius XII could only have had the traditional Mass in mind when speaking of participation!); the meagreness of the traditional lectionary; the weakness of the Roman Canon as anaphora (in response to which he gives a magnificent presentation of its concentric structure around the Consecration); the silence of the Canon (much maligned, yet so eminently appropriate).

In addressing the question of the place of the vernacular in the liturgy, Fiedrowicz shows a supple command of the argumentation found in Church documents as well as in the work of the Grande Dame of Church Latin, Christine Mohrmann, who in her own day, like the never-believed prophetess Cassandra of Troy, had explained how the Latin of the liturgy is not the vernacular of the late Roman empire. Here he presents us with another of his golden lines: “the Church did not slip Latin on as a garment that could be replaced with another . . . the Roman Church artistically forged for herself her own Latin for her liturgy, and in it she uniquely expressed her identity” (p. 158). He also presents the devastatingly prophetic opinion a far-sighted Germanic bishop voiced as early as 1839, when the imitation of Protestant vernacularism was already a temptation: “Do not expect too much from the German language . . . the Protestant churches are getting more and more empty. The same may happen to ours too. I fear that we will drive out our old churchgoers without” attracting new ones (p. 171, n. 166). Fiedrowicz does not, however, appeal to the debatable argument that liturgical Latin, masking as it does the divine mysteries from the (latinless, presumably) laity, is the Western equivalent of the Eastern iconostasis; on a personal note I am grateful to him for it.

On a more theological level, the author, in chapter 9 (“Rituality and Sacrality”), explains the strengths of the traditional Mass. It is catholic, here meaning “universal,” both through time (a St. Irenaeus would be at home at the traditional Mass) and space (a foreign Catholic visitor is at home at the traditional Mass wherever he goes). It is intangible: one does not touch the sacred, as “objective space removed from human interference” is what makes God’s  presence perceptible. It is rigidly codified: the rubrics keep out subjective creativity on the part of the celebrant. It is richly symbolic: here the author goes a long way to explain the more mysterious ceremonies of the Mass, e.g. the paten hidden under the subdeacon’s humeral veil during part of the Canon at the Solemn Mass. Likewise chapter 5 (“Structure and Components of the Celebration of the Mass”) shows how the way in which the parts of the Mass are conducted is eminently fitting and meaningful, for instance the bowing and dialogue-format of the Confiteor or even the syntactical structure of the Orations. Most charming is the loving exposition of how well the Prologue of the Gospel according to Saint John fits as a conclusion to the Mass.

Another aspect of the book that will recommend it to scholar and layman alike is its carefulness. The author never claims more than he can argue; his tone is always calm and rational; the Greek and Latin quotations are refreshingly flawless and rendered into good English; citations from the Fathers of the Church, which are plentiful, refer to the most recent editions for the original ancient language and to the best English translations available. We can here thank the translator, Miss Rose Pfeifer, for not merely relying on the nearly unreadable Victorian English versions whose lack of copyright makes them too easily accessible on line.

Now a few words of criticism.

Some readers will find the author’s use of the 1962 edition of the Missale Romanum as normative to be somewhat slavish, particularly in light of recent arguments for a return to the status of the Missal before the reform of the rubrics in 1960 and the “restored” Holy Week of 1956. This may be due in part to the 2011 year of publication of the first German edition. At the time (that is, before the CDF permitted a limited use of former editions of the Missal), it was hard to imagine an actual return; even now, the priests and faithful with regular access to pre-1962 celebrations are in the minority. Be that as it may, the author does also present the older, more traditional rubrics: he favors the Communicants’ Confiteor before Holy Communion; he mentions the former greater use of Benedicamus Domino instead of Ite Missa est; he gives a clear and succinct explanation of the older classification of feasts (double majors, semidoubles, etc., along with the gradation of solemnity); he mentions the reduced lessons (from twelve to four) at the Easter Vigil. On the other hand, in his otherwise excellent presentation of Vigils and their importance (fast before feast), he passes over the Vigil of Saint Andrew (suppressed in the 1960 revisions), even though it had traditionally inaugurated the Sanctoral. By and large, however, the author’s analyses should satisfy the faithful who are attached to the pre-1955 form of the Roman rite.

Another quibble concerns the selective bibliography: since the sources have been divided up into topics (“Sacred Language,” “Gregorian Chant,” “Orations,” etc.) rather than continuously listed in alphabetical order, it is hard to find the full citation of a work referred to in abbreviation in the footnotes; the work in question may not even be amongst those selected for the bibliography at the end. This makes the book unwieldy as one reads it with a view to the sources, as there may be much page flipping back to the first, full, citation of an abbreviated work. On the other hand, the bibliography as presented is perfect for one seeking to bulk up his liturgical library on any given topic.

At this point the reader will have realized, despite these last minor complaints, how important this new book is in the current liturgical conversation: it amounts to an authoritative “state of the question,” with any number of trailheads for further investigation. It also provides one with the many answers to the question posed by (as yet) inconvinced friends and relatives (including Novus Ordo clergy): “Why the old Mass?” In this respect it is the perfect gift (or loan) when one is unsure of one’s own mastery of the facts . . . or of one’s temper in what can easily turn to a heated debate. More broadly, this books constitutes the essential introduction for any one, from high school on, who wishes to understand the liturgical patrimony of Rome.

The supreme literary vindication of Summorum Pontificum: Fiedrowicz’s comprehensive guide to the Traditional Mass — now in English


I am delighted to announce to Rorate readers the publication by Angelico Press of the long-awaited English edition of Michael Fiedrowicz’s masterful work, The Traditional Mass: History, Form, and Theology of the Classical Roman Rite (first published in 2011, and now in its fifth German edition).

I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to read this book twice and really absorb its content (and on that basis, I provided an endorsement for the back cover). I can confidently say there’s nothing comparable to it out there in the English language, in its comprehensive scope, depth of research, and insight into every aspect of the liturgy. It is a compelling apologia for the superiority of the old rite at every level and on every head. The author’s judgments are perfectly weighed, polished, sober, and clear; there is not a touch of exaggeration or unfairness. The result is both triumphant and devastating.

In these strange times, when we see the number of traditional Masses at an all-time high (thanks to a proliferation of private Masses), the CDF issuing decrees that acknowledge with perfect clarity that the old Mass is here to stay for the future of the Church, and an ominously-worded questionnaire sent out to all bishops about the implementation of Summorum Pontificum, we may have many questions and a few anxieties, but we also enjoy a towering certainty: interest in and adherence to the traditional Mass will not subside. On the contrary, it will continue to grow, seminarian by seminarian, priest by priest, and even quite possibly bishop by bishop as the champions of rupture retire and churchmen with less rigid ideas about the “success” of the liturgical reform and the “outdatedness” of our heritage take their place.

Fiedrowicz’s work arrives, therefore, at exactly the right moment. If you are going to read just one serious book on the TLM, this is the one. In addition, I recommend purchasing copies for every priest you know who already offers the usus antiquior — indeed, for every priest who is, or may be, interested in learning more about the very Roman rite for which he was ordained.

Table of Contents

The Gentle Traditionalist Returns — Roger Buck on the “New Ageification” of Ireland and the West

A BOOK REVIEW
by Dr. Peter Kwasniewski

The Gentle Traditionalist Returns by Roger Buck. Brooklyn: Angelico Press, 2019. 262 pp. Paperback $17.95; cloth $34.35. Order here.

MANY CATHOLICS, many Christians, even many “non-religious” people who have retained shreds of sanity (like the recently deceased Roger Scruton), are trying to answer the question: How did the West get to this point of dissolution in its social and cultural life? How did it come about that the Catholic Church itself, which had once seemed an impregnable bastion of order, decency, beauty, and meaning, succumb enthusiastically to the suicidal secularism and irrationalism characteristic of our postmodern times?

Humanly speaking, there will not be a single source that can give a complete answer to this question. We piece together our answers as we are able and as the Lord grants us opportunities for insight. But I think we have all had the experience that certain books stand out for opening up fruitful avenues of thought, connecting more dots, or bringing in new elements of which one had been unaware. This has been my experience over the years with key books, such as Martin Mosebach’s  Heresy of Formlessness and Henry Sire’s masterpiece Phoenix from the Ashes, and I imagine it is happening for a lot of readers today with Bishop Schneider’s Christus Vincit.

Roger Buck, a former New Age enthusiast, indeed apologist and campaigner, who experienced a double conversion, first to Christianity and then to traditional Catholicism, is making unique contributions to this effort to understand our current situation in the West and in the Church, which has come to a head in the panreligious, syncretistic, humanistic, one-world-government Age of Abu Dhabi. He speaks authoritatively, with detailed academic and personal knowledge, about the influence of the New Age movement behind the scenes and diffusively throughout society in its popular media spin-offs, which can nevertheless be traced back to purer origins.

The last two works by Buck — his winsome novel The Gentle Traditionalist (Angelico, 2015) and his more wide-ranging, philosophical, autobiographical Cor Jesu Sacratissimum: From Secularism and the New Age to Christendom Renewed (Angelico, 2016) — are now joined by a third book: The Gentle Traditionalist Returns (Angelico, 2019). As one who hugely enjoyed the first novel when appeared four years ago and ended up distributing many copies of it to friends and family, I was overjoyed to see a sequel, although also a bit apprehensive, because sequels can sometimes be disappointing (certainly with movies, as often as not: with the endless Star Wars series, pretty soon we’ll be peering into Luke’s first trimester).

HAPPILY, Buck’s latest foray is a grand success. The book opens with the narrator discussing his journey to Catholicism and how he is slowly awakening to the magnitude of the spiritual combat around him, something his more sensitive wife has long perceived. There are moving reminiscences of the Ireland of yesterday and today, together with expressions of affectionate concern for their relative Brigid, whom we learn has fallen prey to a New Age activist and slickster, Gareth LightShadow. In the central part of the story, GT (Gilbert Tracey or the Gentle Traditionalist) skewers LightShadow, though the latter is too besotted with himself to realize he’s been made a fool of. In the process, GT exposes political and cultural connections most Christians have never heard of, much less reckoned with. In particular, Buck wants to explain how a twin force, which he names the New Secular Religion (or Secular Materialism) and the New Age Religion (or Secular Spiritualism), work together to undermine Christianity and, in fact, basic human dignity and reason.

The story features the same singular combination of whimsy and surprise, keen social commentary, and deft argumentation as the first Gentle Traditionalist. (Note that it is not necessary to have read the first in order to follow the second; they are written as stand-alone books.) The new book, however, has more pathos, paints its characters more fully, and sustains a more serious tone throughout, without descending into preachiness. The tragedy of an Ireland implosively denaturing itself, the plight of the unborn sold to the Me-market, and the self-disembowelment of the Church are prominent themes.

In a lengthy Afterword, “Occultism and the Easternization of the Anglosphere” (pp. 193–242) that is worth the price of the book all by itself, Buck drops the story genre and simply expounds the penetration of Eastern esotericism into the West. He wants to explain how “Eastern Occultism Without Christ” has penetrated so far and so wide that it is nowadays to be found in bestselling novels, popular magazines, television shows, UN and EU programs — and, we might add, in homilies and sermons too, not to mention utterances from Rome. There is a great deal of connecting-the-dots in these pages that helps in tuning one’s ear and sharpening one’s eye. Already thanks to the novel and its Afterword, I am able to perceive new layers of intelligibility in pieces of world news and Vatican news.

The novel part of the book is shot through with a combination of melancholy and hopefulness that reminds me of the best poetry and folk music, while the Afterword offers a painstaking analysis of figures we neglect to our disadvantage. The Gentle Traditionalist Returns appeals to what is best and deepest in us, so that we will reengage with that which ultimately matters while there is yet time. 

Thank you, Roger Buck, for another brilliant tale of spiritual awakening and discovery.

To order in paperback or hardcover, visit the publisher's page, which has links to various Amazon sites. Interested readers may wish to visit the author's blog Cor Jesu Sacratissimum and especially his YouTube channel, which features many video discussions on a variety of subjects.



Angelico Press Launches Catholic Traditionalist Classics with Fr Bryan Houghton’s Mitre and Crook

Fr Bryan Houghton (1911-1992)
It is with great joy that I share an important development in the world of publishing: the launch of a new series by Angelico Press, Catholic Traditionalist Classics, that will bring back into print — for the benefit especially of younger readers born after the apocalypse — many fine works from the early years of the traditional movement that have become difficult or impossible to acquire. The series is inaugurated, appropriately enough, with a towering classic: Fr. Bryan Houghton’s deliciously witty novel Mitre and Crook of 1979.

When the publisher asked me for an endorsement, I wrote (without any back-cover hyperbole) that I had read Mitre and Crook on a lark years ago and instantly fell in love. Bryan Houghton was the Robert Hugh Benson of the postconciliar crisis. He brilliantly portrays a bishop, Edmund Forester, who with equal parts cleverness and courage orchestrates a complete restoration of Catholic tradition in his backwater diocese. The novel is written in the form of letters from Bishop Forester to his presbyterate and to various allies and enemies, local and abroad; the epistolary narration is suspenseful and gripping. Along the way we are treated to a scorching portrait of the souls of reformists, unbelievably narrow in mind and oblivious to spiritual realities. 


Book Announcement: Annibale Bugnini: Reformer of the Liturgy by Yves Chiron

A proper review of this book will be coming along at Rorate later, but it seemed a good idea, especially in the Christmas season, to let our readers know about one of the great publishing events of the decade: the first full-length "scientific" biography of Archbishop Annibale Bugnini. Until now, the only biographies available have been short (usually hagiographical) accounts by Bugnini's disciples and friends, or the lengthy (and definitely hagiographical) writings left by Bugnini himself. No professional historian has tackled this important and intricate figure until Yves Chiron did so in Annibale Bugnini (1912-1982): Réformateur de la liturgie, which appeared at the beginning of 2016. Thanks to the diligence of John Pepino and Angelico Press, an English edition has now been released. Below is the publisher's announcement.

*          *          *

Yves Chiron
Foreword by Alcuin Reid
214 pages, 5.5 × 8.5 in
978-1-62138-411-3 (paper) $17.95
978-1-62138-412-0 (cloth) $26.00

In this book, French historian Yves Chiron turns his attention to one of the most influential figures of 20th-century Catholicism: Annibale Bugnini, guiding spirit of liturgical reform in the period surrounding the Second Vatican Council. Highly controversial in his day, and down to the present, Bugnini has attracted high praise from his disciples and vilification from his detractors—but all agree that without his energetic organizational skills and access to the levers of power, the most extensive overhaul of the Roman Catholic liturgy in the history of the Church would not have taken place as it did.

Yet who was Bugnini, really? What were his formative experiences, personal ideals, intellectual assumptions, practical aims? How did he accomplish so much in so short a time? Why, after such a singular collaboration with Pope Paul VI, did he suddenly fall from grace and suffer exile? Should he be remembered as liturgiae amator et cultor, lover and servant of the liturgy (his epitaph), or as the éminence grise of an unscrupulous reinvention of Catholic worship? Can we cut through the legendary, the polemical, and the partisan, to arrive at a clear portrait of the man and his work?

Interview with Dr. Kwasniewski at O Clarim

From O Clarim:

A NOBLE BEAUTY – Exclusive interview with Dr Peter Kwasniewski
Aurelio Porfiri

We celebrate this year the 10th anniversary of the motu proprio Summorum Pontificum, a document released by Pope Benedict XVI that liberalized the use of the pre-Vatican II Missal.

If we want to know something more about the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (the pre-Vatican II Mass), we could read Noble Beauty, Transcendent Holiness (2017, Angelico Press) by Peter Kwasniewski, a very well known scholar in the field of liturgy. Dr Peter Kwasniewski, choirmaster at the Wyoming Catholic College (USA), certainly presents very strong arguments to defend his position, as can be seen in the following interview.

Porfiri: Your book uses the phrase “noble beauty” in its title. How would you describe the noble beauty of the liturgy?

Kwasniewski: There are many different kinds of beauty. There is the simple, domestic beauty we associated with well-made furniture, carpets, blankets, plates, and books. There is an austere beauty, such as one might find in the cell of a Carthusian. There is rugged beauty, such as we see in the landscapes of Iceland or Canada or Alaska. But there is a noble beauty that we associate with sovereignty, majesty, occasions of great public solemnity. The liturgy is our courtly audience with the king of heaven and earth. It should be characterized by a tremendous sense of spaciousness, elevation, dignity, and splendor. That is what I am driving at in my title.

Porfiri: What is your ideal reader? How you imagine your audience?

One reader described me as “giving old arguments new juice.” I was born well after the Second Vatican Council ended and after Paul VI had already promulgated a new Mass. All of the traditional things I love are things that almost went extinct. My friends and I had to stumble upon them and discover them anew. I see it with fresh eyes: I have no nostalgic memories. For this reason, my writings seem to speak especially to young people who are in the same boat. This book is largely an “apologia” for the ancient liturgy and the whole world-view it embodies—which is definitely not that of modernity. My ideal reader? Someone who has an open mind to the proposal that the past generations might have had more wisdom than we do.

New Book from Angelico Press: Noble Beauty, Transcendent Holiness: Why the Modern Age Needs the Mass of Ages

I am pleased to announce the publication of my new book with Angelico, now available on Amazon.

(The publisher's announcement:)

THE TRADITIONAL LITURGY OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH is a highly formal ritual unfolding in layers of elaborate gesture, rich symbolism, whispered Latin, and ancient plainchants. “Experts” after the Second Vatican Council were convinced that such a ritual was irrelevant to “modern man.” To the shock of some, the delight of many, and the surprise of everyone, the old Latin Mass (and much that went along with it) has tenaciously survived during the past half-century and become an increasingly familiar feature in the Catholic landscape. What are the reasons for this revival, especially among the young? And why is this development so important for the renewal of Catholicism? 

Peter Kwasniewski offers a lively account of the noble beauty and transcendent holiness of the traditional Roman liturgy, which humbles us before the mystery of God, stirs us with its pageantry, carries us into sacred silence, and bears us to a world of invisible realities. He contrasts this priceless treasure with the rationalistic reforms of the sixties, which yielded a Catholic liturgy severed from its own history, inadequate to its theological essence, unequal to its ascetical-mystical purpose, and estranged from its cultural inheritance. His conclusion: if there is to be a new springtime in the Church, the widespread restoration of the traditional liturgical rites will be at the heart of it.