Traditional Catholics attending a Traditional Latin Mass during WWII? 
No, just Catholics attending THE Mass during WWII

That today there are Catholics denominated “traditionalist” is a development unexampled in the entire previous history of the Catholic Church. Even at the height of the Arian crisis—the closest analogue to our situation—the Church was not divided between traditionalists and non-traditionalists, but rather between those who had not embraced the heresy of Arius and those who had.

But what exactly is a traditionalist? A look back at the way things once were might convey the meaning of the term more effectively than the usual attempts at a formal definition:

Manhattan College was where I wanted to go after graduating from Cardinal Hayes High School in the Bronx. After all, my father and godfather had both graduated from there in 1931, and we had just moved within commuting distance. I had no idea what I wanted to spend my life doing, but my calculus grades and struggle with physics eliminated these fields.

Manhattan’s new liberal arts curriculum attracted me, too, with its four-year sequential, required courses in history, philosophy, world literature, and fine arts. Theology was required for all four years as well, and I looked forward to deepening my Faith re-kindled at Hayes after the previous six years in public schools in another state. My particular interest was in moral theology, the course required in our junior year.

What is it that makes our Neo-Catholic brothers “comfortable” amidst all the ruins and stench? Why do they insist on remaining pathetic deniers of the great historian of the Council of Trent, Hubert Jedin’s, warning that nothing does more to abet a disaster than an unwillingness to recognize its real existence and character?

“Christ said ‘I am the Truth’. He did not say, ‘I am custom’.” (Tertullian) 

How much time does it take for neo-Catholics to realize that they are dancing on a corpse? Apparently, the answer is “forever”, and this because their head is where their heart is.

The question popped into my head while sitting here at Rocco’s today, comparing this pastry shop’s situation with that of the Church in general, and wondering what I, as an historian, would write about news of the immediate collapse of both.

This, no doubt, will be a very tough weekend for many Traditional Catholics to have to endure. The party atmosphere alone will be enough to make us wince. But on top of this, we will have to watch and/or encounter thousands of faithful who will be blissfully unaware that they are witnessing one of the most grievous prudential errors in the history of the Church. Instead they will be laughing, singing, shouting, and cavorting, much like the atmosphere at a World Youth Day.

Even though the promoter of John Paul II’s cause himself said the late pontiff was not being canonized for his pontificate, we will no doubt, have to hear George Weigel and others disregard this unprecedented qualification and praise John Paul II’s pontificate anyway.

 But, wait, there’s more!

According to La Stampa, Pope Paul VI has reportedly been penciled in for beatification this coming fall at the conclusion of the Synod of Bishops in Rome.

Yes, that’s right—Paul VI! Remember him? That vague, sort of nondescript pontiff who made up for negligible personal magnetism with an almost fanatical penchant for novelty.

There is no particular cult associated with his cause, of course, other than among a few aging ecclesiastical hippies inside the Vatican who are evidently bound and determined to nominate their pal Paul for a Halo Award, come hell or high water.

Something of a tragic figure, Papa Montini was sometimes called the Lady Macbeth of the Vatican because by pontificate end he was reportedly reduced to walking the papal apartments at night, racked with self-doubt, weeping over the mess he and his friends had made of the Roman Rite.

Critics have complained that Pope Pius XII did nothing to help victims of Nazi atrocities; critics have complained that Pope John Paul II did nothing to help victims of clergy abuse. The irony is that the Vatican shows more sensitivity to Jewish concerns than it does to the victims of its own clergy.

Know anyone who always has to have the last word? I know of a bishop who always had to have the last word in his written correspondence. So one of his priests decided to test his endurance. He sent the bishop a thank you letter, to which the bishop responded with an acknowledgment, to which the priest responded with another thank you, to which the bishop responded again with another acknowledgment, etc, etc, etc. In the end, after much time and postage, the bishop prevailed.

So too, Father Celatus insists on having the last word about his “Last Word.” I concluded my recent article regarding the impending canonization of Pope John Paul II with these words:

As the Church Militant continues to lower the standard for heavenly evidence that souls are within the Church Triumphant, one wonders whether canonization is now more a matter of what man himself declares and less a discernment of what God determines. Jesus promised that what is bound on Earth is bound in Heaven but in these canonizations, might not the Church be forcing the hand of God?

In his L’Année Liturgique – The Liturgical Year – the great Dom Guéranger, 19th century abbot of Solesmes, notes that Holy Thursday’s praying of the fifth psalm conveys a “moral teaching, which, if listened to, would correct many a false judgment of the world. It often happens that men are shaken at seeing the wicked prosperous, and the virtuous afflicted. It was the temptation which overcame the apostles, when, seeing their divine Master in the hands of His enemies, they lost their faith in Him as the Messias.”

In other words, even after having witnessed the miracles of Our Lord and professing to recognize Him as the Messiah the Apostles nevertheless “lost faith in Jesus” after He had fallen into the hands of His enemies.

Does this mean that in our own day as we witness the Mystical Body of Christ undergo a similar passion, we too can expect to be scandalized to that extent? Might we in our fear and weakness also come to deny the Church and even flee from her when she falls into the hands of the Christophobes?

In answer to the question: “Whether it was necessary for Christ to rise again?” (Q.53, art. 1), St. Thomas Aquinas writes as follows:

(It behooved Christ to rise again, for five reasons: First of all, for the commendation of Divine Justice, to which it belongs to exalt those who humble themselves for God’s sake, according to Luke 1,52: “He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble.” Consequently, because Christ humbled Himself even unto the death of the Cross, from love and obedience to God, it behooved Him to be lifted up by God unto a glorious Resurrection; hence, it is said in His Person (Psalm 138.2): “Thou hast known (i.e., approved) My sitting down (i.e., My humiliation and Passion) and my rising up (i.e., My glorification in the Resurrection)…”

Secondly, for our instruction in the Faith, since our belief in Christ’s Divinity is confirmed by His rising again, because, according to 2 Cor. 13,14, “although He was crucified through weakness, yet He liveth by the Power of God”. And it is therefore written (1 Cor. 15,14): “If Christ be not risen again, then is our preaching vain, and our faith is also vain;” and Psalm 29.10: “What profit is there in My Blood (that is, in the shedding of My Blood), while I go down (as by various degrees of evils) into corruption?” As though He were to answer: “None.” “For if I do not at once rise again, but My body be corrupted, I shall preach to no one, I shall gain no one,” as the Gloss expounds.

History and Scripture show that ever since Adam and Eve men tend to want a God cut down to their own size: a God fashioned in their own likeness. What they don’t want is a God of infinite perfection who asks them to rise above themselves, above concupiscence and self-love, and strive to be perfect, even as their heavenly Father is perfect.

Men who have a strong tendency to be this way are likely to have difficulty also with the mystery of the Incarnation. Their hearts find it intolerable that an Infinite God should so love the world as to give His only-begotten Son to die in torments for love of us. You understand that what makes this intolerable is the implied obligation of making a like return of love; of putting off the “old Adam” and conforming oneself to Christ the new Adam.

In the Garden of Gethsemane, our Lord experienced a suffering so great, that three times He petitioned His Father to let it pass from Him. So intense was the distress and agony caused by this trial, that, for a time, our Lord’s human will was in conflict with His Divine Will. This cross was so great, and the pain and sorrow so intense, that it caused Him to sweat blood, yet the petition He made to His Father was not granted.

What was this chalice that our Lord was experiencing? Was it the foreknowledge of the suffering and death He was about to undergo for the Redemption of man? Is this the chalice He asked His Father to take away? If so, it would indicate that our Lord’s natural fear of suffering was, at least momentarily, greater than His supernatural love for those for whom He came to redeem.

THE doctrine of Christ is that we die to the world and join with Him on the cross. This teaching is beautifully expressed by St. Paul where he says, "I am nailed to the cross with Christ." (Galatians 2:19) To endure the suffering of the cross is necessary for salvation as taught by the Savior Himself: "Whosoever does not carry his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple." (Matthew 14:27)

Christ came to deliver us from the world and to call us home to His everlasting Kingdom, but this will be done strictly through the cross. He went before us to open the way but unless we follow Him, His sacrifice avails us nothing. The way to Heaven is to strip oneself of worldly interest and to press after Christ with our cross as taught by the evangelist: "I suffer the loss of all things, and count them as dung, that I may gain Christ." (Phil. 3:8)