Latin Mass for One

Is the Latin Mass less worthy of reverence than “Hamlet”?

Tuesday after Easter. I have a spare hour, so why not check out the daily Latin Mass at St William of York? It was at 1120am on that day only, which you might think was an odd time for any Mass. Not pre-work or post-work or lunchtime; it might attract only retired people or homemakers or the staff and students at the adjacent university who can make their own time. In fact, even these had other things to do and I found myself alone in the nave.

It was the first time I had ever been the sole member of the congregation at any Mass in any language. It certainly encourages concentration when you are the only one to make the responses AND in a foreign tongue. Fortunately most of the Mass is either silent or said by the priest, so my mispronunciations were not too plentiful, despite a sore throat. Unfortunately the long gaps of silent prayer made it extra hard to keep my location in the Mass booklet. With no clear visual or audible cues to guide me I was flicking back and forth in the booklet to see where my hoarse voice might next be needed. Suddenly the priest would proclaim: “Dominus vobiscum!” and my rusty childhood reflexes kicked in with “Et cum spiritu tuo.” Phew! Back on track at top of page 23.….

Even more unnerving is making sure I am kneeling, standing or seated at the right points. Normally you follow the herd movements up and down. Mercifully there are directions in the margins of the Mass booklet.

In some ways it was a wonderful nostalgia trip, with the glorious prayers ripped from the liturgy after Vatican 2 now coming up fresh as new paint. What could be more wonderfully new every day than the opening lines: “I will go up to the altar of God, the God who gives joy to my youth”? What bunch of destructive eejits thought that they would attract young people by editing out prayers like that? The Good Centurion, quoted for 2,000 years at every Mass just before Communion, was similarly evicted. “Lord, I am not worthy that thou should enter under my roof….” After all, in the 1960s atmosphere of universal peace and love as prescribed by Ho Chi Minh, a saintly imperialist military guy did not quite fit the picture. Now the God who gives joy to every one’s youth and the virtuous commander were back in daily prayers.

Come Communion, I advance to the altar rail. The altar rail has not been eliminated every where - I knelt at one in St Stephen’s Cathedral in Budapest in 2004. But at St William they have to improvise for Latin Mass - the strip of kneelers/bookrests normally used for the front row of seats is pushed forward to form a temporary altar barrier. You might think that a congregation of one would be difficult to miss, especially when he is my size, two rows from the front and the only voice responding, albeit croakily and shakily. Do I receive the host? Er, no, the priest carries on in silent prayer, back to me, apparently unaware of my bulky kneeling presence.

I retreat bemused to my seat, Mass concludes, followed by several post-Mass prayers which I had not heard in years, including the old favourite to St Michael the Archangel. Then, as the priest is finished and I am on the point of leaving, he asks apologetically if I wanted Communion. Well, yes… I quickly regret this as it involves a rewind to the pre-Communion prayers, distribution of the host (to me alone) and then a repeat of the post-Communion prayers.

Would I do it again? Definitely. Would I switch to it entirely as an alternative to the English rite? No. The sense of being an onlooker rather than a participant in the Mass was too palpable and you can see why even some Popes wrote about Catholic congregations being silent spectators. But the current marginalization of the Latin liturgy is both a monstrous injustice and a serious deprivation for much of the Catholic population in all countries. Only a minority of Catholics in England can easily get to a Latin Mass and savour a rich slice of Catholic history and prayer and I am sure that is the case in most parts of the world. We are incredibly lucky in Reading to have such easy access.

Yet you can get Latin Mass at any concert hall in the world, but as an artistic exercise, not a profound act of worship. No one dares to insist that a mass by Beethoven or Bruckner must be translated into fourth rate English before it is inflicted on the ignorant concert goers. Given the price of concert tickets in most countries, the hall managers would probably have an instant riot on their hands. Similarly for all the shorter prayers and devotional pieces set to incomparable music such as Mozart’s “Ave verum corpus”. Latin is plenty good enough for such masterpieces. Most Shakespeare producers and directors are happy with the English of 1600 without going in for a simplifying translation into the English of 2009. Is the Latin Mass less worthy of reverence than “Hamlet”?