We have a new pope in Leo XIV. What can traditionalists expect from his papacy? The first impressions have been favorable. The new pope’s choice of name, his vestments, his demeanor, and several early addresses have found favor among traditionalists. These matters of form all indicate a break with the culture of his predecessor.

On the other hand, Pope Leo is reliably described as a candidate of the circle of Pope Francis, promoted by them when, for one reason or another, the “Bergoglian” papal candidates with the greatest media support could not advance. It was then that Prevost’s name moved to the front of the list. Indeed, Leo seems to be in several respects a compromise candidate. We see this reflected in the fact that representatives of contradictory factions in Catholicism are vying to claim him as their own. Moreover,  there still remains a dearth of information on what his real views are. 

Some conservatives and traditionalists remain disappointed because a pope explicitly friendly to traditionalism and orthodoxy was not elected. However, is it surprising that the new pope would emerge from the “Bergoglian” camp, given that the vast majority of the Cardinals were appointed by Francis?  And after Francis had de facto eliminated the college of cardinals as some kind of cohesive, deliberative body? As we shall see, however,  the prior history of a new pope, as well as the expectations of those who achieved his election, are by no means determinative of what his actual papacy will be like.  

Let me set forth some historical parallels to illustrate these points. Now I recognize it is a perilous thing to draw on historical precedents to understand the present. In this very year there appeared in the pages of Commonweal magazine a fatuous comparison, intended to be insulting, of the Catholic traditionalist movement to the Jansenists of the 17th century. (I myself thought traditionalists should be flattered by this comparison, especially since under Francis there was talk of canonizing Blaise Pascal.) Yet, if used cautiously in a general, non-pedantic way,  the past does offer real insights into the current age and, if we recognize this culture to be problematic, examples of how to get out of it.

I would analogize the “Conciliar” era, commencing in 1958, to three other great periods of crisis, decadence and collapse which enveloped the papacy and much of the rest of the Church as well: 

First,  the Pornocracy or Saeculum Obscurum, which lasted roughly from 880 to 1040. 

Second,  the Renaissance papacy between 1470 and 1534. 

Third, the late 18th century crisis between 1758 and 1800, culminating in the French Revolution.

Characteristic of each of these periods of decline is an almost exclusive focus of the papacy on a limited range of secular political issues. The popes withdraw from the great religious concerns of the Church that had previously governed their actions. The growing lack of awareness of spiritual issues goes hand in hand with the institutionalization of an all-engulfing fantasy world into which the leadership of the Church retreats.

In such ages we see the gradual acceptance as normal of what once had been considered unimaginable, perverted or even criminal. For example, in 882 the first pope was assassinated – in the following hundred years it became a fairly regular event.  After 1470, the popes and higher clergy routinely promoted and extravagantly enriched their nephews – and soon their sons and daughters as well – at the expense of the Church. In 1773 the Jesuit order was disowned and suppressed by its principal patron and beneficiary, the pope himself. In our own day, we have seen a never-ending series of financial scandals at the Vatican, a sexual abuse crisis continuing to rock the Church,  the trial, deposition, and laicization of Cardinals,  and papal promotion of change in what had been considered immutable rules of Catholic morality.

This indifference to scandal is not confined to the papacy.  The Holy Roman Emperor Otto I, discussing the disreputable conduct of Pope John XII (955-964) – who was at most 20 years old – is said to have philosophically remarked “he’s only a young pope.”  Leo X (1513-1522), under whom the Protestant Reformation got underway, was lauded by the humanist writers – the equivalent of today’s media.  If we look at our own day, the official Catholic Church – the Vatican, the mainstream religious orders, the hierarchy, the educational and media apparatus, and a great part of the laity – does not acknowledge that there’s anything amiss in the Church – at least nothing attributable to the Pope, the clergy or Vatican II.  

Now, in each of these cases, the papacy was completely immersed in the decadence and indeed led the way downward. And at no time did change for the better happen because a newly elected pope suddenly came to his senses, recognized the perilous situation and then systematically confronted the issues. Rather, the beginnings of recovery first required either outside political intervention (impossible today) or total disasters for the Church like the French Revolution. For it’s exceedingly difficult for the papacy to work its way out of bad situations all by its own,  because all the likely candidates for the papacy are themselves participants in the crisis. 

What can happen, however, is popes or bishops have a surprising change of heart, and members of the establishment begin a gradual and tentative transformation of a corrupt culture. A famous example is the election in 1534 of Alessandro Farnese as Pope Paul III. Pope Paul’s predecessor, Clement VII, when faced with the Protestant Reformation, the separation of England from the Catholic Church,  Turkish advances and local political disasters, such as the sack of Rome,  had no response other than to continue the Renaissance papacy’s focus on secular political maneuvering. His successor, Alessandro Farnese, embodied the best and worst features of the college of cardinals of that period:  an extravagant patron of the arts,  the proprietor of the most splendid palace in Rome, a skilled political leader – and the father of a number of children. Moreover, his rise to such prominence was in large part attributable to the status of his sister Giulia as mistress of Pope Alexander VI. He would seem to have been an unlikely candidate for a reformer. Indeed, Pope Paul III continued some of the worst abuses of the past (extreme nepotism, a focus on secular politics).  Yet this man, definitely not a saint,  also launched the Catholic Reformation – patronizing new orders, promoting spiritually minded clerics and calling the Council of Trent. By the death of Paul III in 1549, the Catholic Reformation was well underway. In the next decades setbacks and regressions occurred, but by 1564 changes for the better had become irreversible. Going forward, the Church, now under the leadership of the reformed papacy,  was able to hold fast against her enemies and create the baroque Catholic culture that flourished all over Europe. 

Of course, by that date, one third of Europe had been permanently lost to the faith.

I am in not at all suggesting that Leo XIV resembles in character Paul III!  However, the Farnese pope’s story does illustrate that the prior conduct and utterances of a cardinal are not necessarily an indicator of what he does as pope. And that, amid an age of decadence, often the most that one can hope for from a conclave is a pope who perceives at least in part the need for change and begins to initiate it – even if the reversal of culture is not total or complete. 

The indications Leo XIV has given us so far have been favorable. It is far too early to adopt an air of optimism, but let’s not be caught up in deterministic scenarios of disaster either.   We will learn about Leo XIV not so much by what he says but from the issues he addresses (or does not address), from the men he promotes (or leaves in place). We already have a welcome sign in the reduction of the responsibilities of archbishop Paglia. And it is likely that the Bergoglian and progressive forces will try to force the pope’s hand early on. Consider the insulting and restrictive actions just taken by Cardinal Roche and the French bishops against the Chartres pilgrimage ( measures decided before the election of Leo).  It is only from how Leo handles such sensitive matters that we will be able to gauge better the true meaning of his papacy. 

There will be a Sung Requiem Mass (Missa Cantata)for Pope Francis on Tuesday, May 20 at 6 PM at the Georgetown Oratory in Redding, CT.   Come join in prayer on the 30th Day of the passing of Pope Francis.  

Other upcoming Traditional Masses at the Oratory:

Thursday, May 29, 6 pm: Ascension Thursday

Saturday, May 31, 8:30 am, Queenship of Mary

Friday, June 6, First Friday, 8:30 am Mass; 9 am-8 pm Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament; 7:50 pm Litany of the Most Sacred Heart and Benediction.

The Oratory also offers a weekly Sunday Traditional Mass at 12 noon and a weekly Traditional Mass on Wednesdays at 6 pm.

The Georgetown Oratory now sends out a Flocknote by email, listing upcoming Masses and events. If you would like to receive the Flocknote please message Fr. Novajosky at frnovajosky@diobpt.org.

At St. Mary Church, Norwalk, CT:

On May 19 at 1:25pm in the Lower Chapel, Regina Pacis Academy is excited to host a special talk on the Shroud of Turin for our middle school students and invite all families and friends to join us!

The presentation, by Shroud expert, Patrick Riley, is entitled “The Shroud of Turin: Medieval Forgery or the Burial Cloth of Jesus Christ?” The Shroud of Turin is a relic, an 8-foot strip of linen with the imprint of a man’s body on it, is said to be the cloth Jesus’s burial garment. It is not a painting, nor made with any type of pigment. The image is burned into the fabric itself, creating a photographic negative.

Attendees to the talk will also get to see life-sized replicas of the Shroud. All are welcome to attend. Please feel free to share the flyer below.

To RSVP, please contact office@reginapacisacademy.org

Graham, Ruth, What Will the New Pope Do About the Latin Mass? The New York Times (May 5,2025)

Today we find a new article on both the Traditional Mass and one of the most egregious recent examples of the abuse of power by the Roman Catholic Church: the upcoming summary termination of the TLM at 27 ( ? – the article does not make clear the exact number) locations in the Archdiocese of Detroit. The article also discusses how these plans of the new archbishop may be upended by the results of the conclave which will begin shortly. A new pope is likely to be selected before the effective date of the new anti-TLM measures in July. The reporter states that she has spent eight hours in Traditional Masses in preparing for this story. Is this article related to others which, I have heard,  have appeared just in the last day or so in the mainstream English, Italian and French press? For some reason, these media are (finally) criticizing aspects of the rule of Francis and certain of his acolytes – notably, Cardinal Parolin. For the most remarkable thing about Graham’s article is that it appears in The New York Times at all.

Overall, the article is fair. The reporter has spoken directly to the traditionalists – not just academics and administrators of the Catholic establishment. Although despite the eight hours of masses she says she attended, the descriptions of the TLM and the reasons people attend it remain incomplete – but they aren’t a gross caricature either. She lets the reader draw his own conclusions. On the one hand, the stories of the faithful regarding their devotion to the Mass and their parishes. On the other hand, the Archdiocesan spokeswoman presents the whole affair as a bureaucratic exercise, over which no one should get excited. And Archbishop Weisenburger adds more menacing talk: the TLM might have become an issue because of the ”character of the priests who celebrate it.” Obviously,  the reporter doesn’t need to point out that the large scale of the TLM activity in Detroit, the close connection with the policies of Pope Francis and the announcement of the drastic restrictions so early in Weisenburger’s tenure render preposterous a merely “bureaucratic” explanation. 

Graham mentions that several priests who celebrate the TLM have refused to be interviewed for this article (she doesn’t mention if she also presented the same request to Archbishop Weisenberger). Indeed, Graham’s article is especially good at conveying the regime of fear that now prevails in the Detroit archdiocese under “shepherds” like the late Pope Francis or Archbishop Weisenburger. The Catholic Church’s culture of intimidation requires resort to political subtlety,  and often even subterfuge,  to practice the faith. I cannot say this is a good advertisement for the Catholic Church.

Graham’s article is not perfect. At times she falls back on then platitudes one would expect from the NYT, like this internally contradictory passage:

More recently, the traditional Mass has become an unlikely lightning rod for broader theological and ideological disputes, especially in the American church, with its strong strain of theological and liturgical conservatism. Its adherents tend to attend Mass more often and have a vision for the church focused on theological orthodoxy over the openness and modernity of the Francis era.

I would say the TLM, as Graham herself illustrates in this article,  is highly likely to be a lightning rod for broader theological and “ideological” disputes. (“Ideological” is a pejorative term with which theological and political progressives designate their opponents’ views.) The traditionalists may have been encouraged in their views by the conflict, as Graham perceives it, between “theological orthodoxy” and the “openness and modernity of the Francis era.” The Catholic establishment nowadays often prefers to understand Catholic traditionalism as a uniquely American phenomenon attributable to America’s native conservatism.  Historically that is absurd. As for the present, if Ruth Graham operates out of the New York City area, I would refer her for further research to the Manhattan parishes of St. Francis Xavier or St. Paul the Apostle and such universities as Fordham, Sacred Heart and Fairfield.  But let’s not get mired in such arguments – Ruth Graham’s article is a welcome addition to the literature on American Catholic traditionalism. 

Irrwege und Umwege im Frömmigkeitsleben der Gegenwart

“Dead Ends and Deviations in the Piety of the Present Day.”

By Fr. Max Kassiepe OMI

Second Expanded and Revised Edition, Echter-Verlag, Würzburg 1940.

Irrwege und Umwege (“Dead Ends and Deviations”) is a most extraordinary work  – the first edition was published in 1939. For it is a very early detailed critical commentary on the forces within the Church that were even then advocating change – above all,  the Liturgical Movement. By 1939 the Liturgical Movement had obtained achieved real significance, at least in the German-speaking world. It’s obvious, however,  that it still retained somewhat the air of a cult, gaining momentum, but still not readily understandable to the mass of Catholics. The Liturgical Movement, as described by Fr. Kassiepe, was promoted by a clique of writers, monks, young priests and their youthful lay enthusiasts. And it still remained a movement, as Fr. Max Kassiepe’s book testifies, that had not yet been canonized and could be challenged publicly and directly. (The publication date of this book also shows that even in 1940 the Church enjoyed considerable freedom in the Third Reich – that is, as long as one didn’t criticize the regime.)

Our author, Fr. Max Kassiepe, approaches the issue from the perspective of an experienced spiritual director. Fr. Kassiepe had led a wide variety of Catholic pastoral activities and seems to have specialized in giving retreats and addresses at major Catholic gatherings and events. He emphasizes from the start that he is not utterly opposed to the Liturgical Movement  – in fact it has brought about many beneficial results. He does object to the one-sided, confrontational and non-pastoral face of the new movement. Fr. Kassiepe describes the adherents of the Liturgical Movement as elitist,  unrealistic and lacking in understanding of the life and issues of ordinary lay Catholics.

His first point of criticism is the reduction by the Liturgical Movement of Catholic spiritual life exclusively to participation in the Mass. The prior forms of Catholic individual piety  – most notably the rosary  – are displaced and marginalized. Fr. Kassiepe criticizes the theoretical basis of this approach which proposes the superiority of an “objective” spirituality, as embodied in the Mass, over an alleged “private” spirituality. He calls this approach  “liturgism.” Fr. Kassiepe specifically criticizes the notion of returning to the age of the “Early Church” (Urkirche). He points out  – decades before such scholarly positions became more widely known – that the Liturgical Movement’s claims about the form of the liturgies of the Early Church – like the prevalence of versus populum celebration or the location of the altar in the center of the church building – were historically dubious. 

Fr. Kassiepe objects to the widespread disregard of the liturgical rubrics by the Liturgical Movement. The Liturgical Movement utilizes unauthorized vernacular texts, promotes versus populum celebration of the Mass and arbitrarily modifies the rules for nuptial marriages. Further, the Liturgical Movement agitates publicly for concelebration. Or its clerical members don’t celebrate Mass when a congregation is not present. Obviously, this kind of criticism is what we would expect in the days of the rules-focused 1870-1958 Church. But did not this principled rejection of liturgical rubrics later reach epic proportions during and after Vatican II and especially after the promulgation of the Novus Ordo? 

Fr. Kassiepe deems many of the initiatives of the Liturgical Movement non-pastoral. So, for example, he advocates continuation of the practice at that time of distributing communion outside of the celebration of the Mass. He further condemns the disparagement of the forms of popular piety and the reduction of the interiors of churches to “a puritanical prayer room as devoid of decoration as a barn, cold as the stable of Bethlehem, uncomfortable as a homeless shelter.” (p. 38 – quoting Cardinal Faulhaber!)

Kassiepe diverges from his liturgical focus to deal with other pastoral issues less obviously linked with the Liturgical Movement. He accuses circles associated with the Liturgical Movement of promoting an excessively romantic, lyrical and spiritual image of marriage. This leaves couples unprepared for the demands of married life. This chapter reminded me of an exchange at a conference long ago between Alice von Hildebrand and Christopher Derrick concerning the nature of marriage – von Hildebrand’s highly romantic view contrasted with Derrick’s realism.

Some of Fr. Kassiepe’s objections are at first hard to understand but reward closer investigation. For example, in one chapter, he denounces  “semi-quietism.” This would seem to an odd issue, given the almost exclusive focus of the pre-Vatican II Church on the active apostolate and the emphasis of the Liturgical Movement itself on participation in the publicly celebrated liturgy. However, what Fr. Kassiepe is primarily addressing is not a mystical deviation, but what later became known as pastoral approach in the sense familiar to us from the developments of the 1960s onward: relaxing collective, objective liturgical and moral duties in favor of spontaneous individual acts. The author even mentions some Catholics skipping Mass on Sunday given, what was to them, the right circumstances! 

A particular sore point for Fr. Kassiepe was the tendency of the disciples of the Liturgical Movement to disparage frequent confession and to restrict the sacrament of penance only to where it is absolutely necessary – when the penitent is in a state of mortal sin. These observations have particular resonance today when the sacrament of penance to a great extent has fallen out of use entirely. One cause was exactly this restrictive view of the sacrament of penance which I recall being expounded in the now-distant past.

Fr. Kassiepe devotes a chapter to the necessary interaction of young and old in the ministry of the Church. There is always a conflict but also a complementarity, a mutual enrichment between the generations. I think the Liturgical Movement – with its perceived disdain for the “old-timers” and their ways – represented to the author the younger generation! Fr. Kassiepe’s understanding approach, derived from his lengthy pastoral experience and seeing the good in both sides, contrasts with the 1946 Letter of Ida Görres – a  one-sided indictment of the German clergy of that day by a sympathizer of the Liturgical Movement. And the Letter was published just six years after Fr. Kassiepe’s book!

Fr. Kassiepe thus treats many issues that would become the focus of conflict twenty or more years later. Many of the practices and assertions he critiques in this book became dogma within the Church by 1970 – and in certain places, like Germany, well before that. But intellectually, how successful are Fr. Kassiepe’s arguments? In his introduction to the second edition, the author notes that some who agreed with him nevertheless concluded he had not gone far enough in his criticism. They pointed out that he did not explore the theological implications of the Liturgical Movement and the dogmatic errors which underlie the aberrations catalogued in his book. “More profound observers see a serious danger for the faith in these phenomena” (p.7) On the contrary, Fr. Kassiepe states that he has assumed the good faith of the Liturgical Movement advocates and chooses to treat the abuses he discusses primarily as problems of practical pastoral management. 

I would agree with these critical observations on Fr. Kassiepe’s book.  For the aberrations of the Liturgical Movement were by no means only attributable to mistaken pastoral policy or uncontrolled youthful enthusiasm but also reflected a more fundamental opposition to the Catholic Church as it existed in that day. It was indeed the beginning of a true revolutionary movement: rejecting practices of Catholic life as actually harmful which up till then had been encouraged or even mandated. And we all can observe about us today the effect on the practice and understanding of the Faith of the reforms originating in the Liturgical Movement 

Yet the author has good words to say about aspects of the Liturgical Movement. He mentions the renewed sense of being a child of God, and of the membership of all Catholics in the mystical body of Christ.  The Liturgical movement works to transform superficial, routine and “other-directed” Catholics into conscious, understanding and joyful followers of Christ. It has eliminated much that was kitsch and unworthy in Catholic devotional literature. And this kind of Catholicism is much more accessible to youth and those outside the Church. 

Reading such passages is it not paradoxical that the traditionalist movement today best realizes what was of value in the original Liturgical Movement? I would cite the awareness of the centrality of the mass, particularly the sung mass, and of the importance of understanding the liturgical texts. There is a stronger orientation of the spiritual life of the Catholic around the Church year and its various feasts, saints’ days and seasons – yet without any detriment to the devotions such as the rosary and Eucharistic adoration. And finally, a much greater participation by the laity in all aspects of the Church’s life.  The results are clear in the growing participation of youth and the increasing numbers of converts to traditionalist and conservative parishes. So, many years after the publication of Irrwege und Umwege, and under unimaginably different circumstance,  the reconciliation between the legacy of the past and that of the Liturgical Movement – as wished for by Fr. Max Kassiepe – may have finally taken place!

After reflection and having reviewed what I had written during the twelve years of the reign of the late Pope Francis I’d like to add my own modest comments to the subject.  The literature on the Pope which has appeared since his death is already immense. Some is perceptive, others fantastic nonsense. Some articles are critical others hagiographic – in some cases literally, as there are already calls for the canonization of Francis. Perusing the contributions  of the Francis enthusiasts, however, I note that they generally praise Francis not so much for what he did but for what he said and for the political positions he took which were aligned with those of Western secular society.

The Roots of the “Worldview “of Pope Francis

In my view the first key to Francis was his training in the official Church bureaucracy:  starting  in the Jesuit order and later as a member of the hierarchy. The second factor was his commitment to Vatican II. As to the latter, the result of the 1960s revolution in the Church had been to institutionalize a regime that on the one hand repudiated the Catholic past to a greater or lesser degree and on the other, welcomed the secular influence of the “modern world.” This dramatic reorientation, however, preserved the existing bureaucratic structure of the Church, and indeed depended on it for its implementation.

These two aspects of the Catholic Church coincided in the Jesuit order –  the spiritual home of Bergoglio. The Jesuits were among the most aggressive in implementing “the Council” while giving it a specifically secular cast. I can recall witnessing in the early 1970s  a clash between a leading Jesuit liturgist and some of his colleagues on the faculty of Georgetown University regarding the renovation of the university chapel. (There were no traditionalists active at that time!) The demeanor of the Jesuit was arrogant,  confrontational and openly contemptuous of the views of his opponents. I often recalled this experience when reading of the not dissimilar demeanor of Pope Francis. And in this very year another Jesuit liturgist speaking at another of the order’s universities demanded the summary and final abolition of the Traditional Mass. In both these cases Jesuits reduce an issue to a black-and-white, purely ideological confrontation with an “enemy,” without regard to other consequences. For the Georgetown chapel, once renovated, had to be restored again at considerable expense, and for those who frequent the Traditional Mass, as the website of the German bishops puts it, they may “fall by the wayside.” 

Of course, there was one radical difference between the behavior of Jesuits in the early 1970s and that today.  In the earlier era the Jesuits were openly contemptuous of Pope Paul VI. They acted on behalf of the Council and its “spirit,” regardless of Pope Paul’s “views.” (In any case, by that time they knew that Pope Paul would hardly ever act against them.). Under Francis, they can invoke blind obedience to the authority of the pope and the Council.

The innovation of Francis  – the leading example of his “cunning” – is the systematic deployment of the language, images and acts of papal absolutism in the service of the revolutionary cause. (In a sense this had already happened under Paul VI, however,  that pontiff was able to better disguise the nature of his authoritarian acts.) Francis understood that since 1968 the forces opposing or at least trying to slow down the course of reform had relied on papal authority as their ultimate bastion – exemplified by the regime of John Paul II. Moreover, given the bureaucratic nature of the Church it would be impossible for most priests and bishops to publicly oppose papal authority.  

Francis further understood the strength that the papal cult retained despite all the disorders of the post-Conciliar years.  For the Pope was now widely perceived as a “visionary” expected to stamp the Church with his spiritual ideals. The pope thus assumed  the status of a founder of a Catholic religious movement. This explains Bergoglio’s choice of the name “Francis.”

The post Vatican II era, however, had revealed that media support could serve as an effective shield against papal authority. Pope Francis would make sure that would not be an issue for him. For another key aspect of the Bergoglio papacy was the aggressive courting of the secular news media. This also required establishing the best of relations with the Catholic progressive forces and institutions that are allied with these media. Francis understood the great fear the higher clergy had of the media. He also understood that most Catholics got their information about the Church from the secular media. His successful media policy meant that from the beginning to the end of his papacy the words and acts of Francis were shrouded in a bodyguard of lies. For the public image of Francis often had nothing to do with the reality. 

I do not think that the substance of the policies of Francis is confusing or contradictory at all. I think we should take him at his word –  that he wanted to complete and make permanent the changes made to the Church in the 1960s. Whereas in the 1960s the enemy in the mind of the Catholic reformers was the Church as it had existed under Pius XII, for Pope Francis and his allies the target was the Church of Benedict XVI and John Paul II. The limited measures these two popes had had taken to redress the balance within the Church would now be systematically attacked and overthrown. With that accomplished, the progressive agenda would be rolled out once again. For the demands of the progressives had fossilized in the 1960’s and 70’s.

Traditionalism

The new Pope’s animosity to Catholic traditionalism was absolutely clear from the earliest days of his papacy. Consider the actions taken in 2013 against the Friars of the Immaculate and the constant disparaging language employed by Francis in reference to traditionalists. Yet, up to 2021 the traditionalist movement seems to have expanded its reach despite the overt hostility of Francis. Perhaps this was attributable to the demoralization of the Catholic conservatives – the closest alternative on the “right.” The conservatives saw their confident predictions in ecclesiastical politics proved worthless, their secular policies and alliances rejected and, above all, were disowned by their chief support –  the papacy. 

In 2021,  Francis decided to put an end to this situation by promulgating Traditionis Custodes (“TC”)after a typically opaque, manipulative and convoluted introductory buildup. The Catholic traditionalist movement was to be wiped out entirely regardless of the consequences to the clergy and laity involved in it. It was just one more example of the Roman Catholic Church repudiating an alleged achievement of Vatican II  – in this case, religious liberty.

However, it became clear early on that there were limits on the war of annihilation against traditionalism. Most notably, the Ecclesia Dei communities, instead being subjected to further restrictions in the implementation of TC, were for the time being spared. In many places traditionalist masses continued despite the provisions of TC. Monasteries and convents still adhered to the traditional  liturgy. And, in the background, the FSSPX continued on its course.

What developed was an arbitrary, unsystematic and lawless persecution. Under Francis the anti-traditionalist campaign became an essential element of the culture of the Catholic Church.  Traditionalist orders and priests still remained subject to summary expulsion from churches and dioceses. Catholic traditionalist masses continued to be terminated without explanation  – a process that continued in places such as Detroit up to the week before Francis  died. And the process of investigating the Ecclesia Dei communities had been restarted. 

But despite all the coercive actions and invective directed against it, the traditionalist movement did not collapse.  Masses are still celebrated widely;  the Ecclesia Dei communities continued to exist and continued to ordain priests. A seemingly endless stream of traditionalist literature was published. An ever-greater number of lay organizers and publicists stepped into the shoes of the clergy. In 2012 I had asked myself if the current generation of traditionalists had any idea of the long and tortuous struggle that had been necessary to achieve what was then in place. Now I can say that today’s young traditionalists have themselves lived and suffered through a similar and, in some respects, even more severe struggle, and have survived.

The Church Today

What is true of the war of Pope Francis against traditionalism also applies to his other initiatives. Wide sections of the Church have not accepted his institutionalization of divorce, recognition of  LGBT practice or unlimited ecumenism. The result is a continuation and intensification of the chaos that has prevailed in the Roman Catholic Church since the 1960s. It is no longer a question of a divergence between an establishment and “dissenters” –  if that ever was in fact the case – but of differences at the highest levels of church authority on the most fundamental issues. 

It is a conflict that largely takes place outside of the public’s view. The progressives and Pope Francis’s allies are loud and aggressive in propagating their views, their opponents have to be more discreet. Francis first tolerated a German synodal path and then spread it to the rest of the Church – all under the supervision of reliably progressive bishops and bureaucrats. Despite endless talk only the agenda of the progressives is on the table. 

But despite it all, Francis sensed there were limits beyond which he could not (immediately) go. This explains, for example, his drawn-out struggle to establish married priests and female clergy,  a measure that seemed on the brink of realization in 2019. I think Francis understood that to immediately impose the full agenda of his progressive allies would likely lead to a disintegration of the Church into an Anglican-style family of ecclesiastical entities. While forces such as the German church might have welcomed that prospect, Pope Francis and his more direct allies wanted to preserve the institution as well as implementing progressive demands.

What are the practical aspects of this regime? From the very beginning of his papacy Pope Francis unleashed an unending barrage of high-handed administrative actions. All of them tended towards the consolidation of power in his own hands. It became very clear that no prior customs, laws, traditions or principles bound Francis. Indeed, he repeatedly reversed his own recent decisions and those of his subordinates. Ultimately, the only authority in the Catholic Church became the will of Francis, as expressed at the current moment. There was a virtual dissolution of law within the Catholic Church.  Institutions such as the college of  Cardinals were virtually abolished. A cleric’s status within the Church was determined not by any external rank  but by the degree of friendship with Francis. And that friendship could be fleeting….

Within the clerical ranks and the church bureaucracy a pervasive climate of fear took hold. We have read about the animosity engendered in institutions like the curia or the diocese of Rome which had ongoing direct contact with Francis. But fear became a worldwide phenomenon as Francis used his nuncios and diplomats as informers and enforcers. We all know of the most spectacular instances of the removal of bishops without any procedure or “due process.” But the same fear was experienced at a much less exalted level. Clerics asked  not to be photographed or that their names be removed from online records of events  – like traditional Masses –   in which they had taken part years ago. Titles of conferences were rewritten to obscure their relationship with, for example, traditionalism or the personal enemies of Francis.

While these internal struggles proceed,  the institutional decline of the Roman Catholic Church continues and accelerates. Especially in the Western, more economically advanced societies, ordinations continue to decline, religious communities disappear, parishes are merged out of existence, schools are shut and the practice and knowledge of the Catholic faith among the laity reaches catastrophically low levels. None of these things seems to trouble the representatives of the institutional Roman Catholic Church. For an institutional fantasy world dominates all levels of the Church – except for some commentators who can be safely disregarded.  

The question of what happens next is more uncertain than usual. It’s always a safe bet to predict that the next Pope will be in some way a continuation of his predecessor  – one sees that in some of the current media lists of papabile. I would only say that in the past such “official” predictions have been egregiously wrong –  such as in 1978, 2005 and 2013!  And let us remember the increasing fracturing of the Roman Catholic Church into antagonistic worlds with differing religious practices and theologies. The division of the Church into “friends of Francis” and “enemies” will not end with his death. 

The central institutions of the Church likewise have been changed and weakened. A system of governance that has been reduced to a conveyor belt for the pope’s actions and ideas, once deprived of its head, cannot operate autonomously. Do many of the Cardinals really know each other? It will be difficult if not impossible to identify a man that could hold the clerical institution together under such circumstances.

In Conclusion

As traditionalists we can only stay the course.  Traditionalism  has survived nearly four years of official persecution by the Catholic Church. We are still standing. On the other hand, the vision of Francis has failed to materialize both in the Church and in the secular world. What will come next we do not know.  What we do know is that those who have survived such trials, developing their spiritual and intellectual life, should not fear to face the future.

This painting of a ruined abbey is dominated by a “Trinitarian” set of windows. A closer view reveals a statue of the Virgin Mary and a crucifix.

The beginnings of the 19th century saw a remarkable spiritual revival in Germany. It was represented by Catholics but also by Protestants. This movement – Romanticism – strove for a recovery of the sacred. Now around 1800 certain of the leading German romantics started to take a specifically Christian, even Catholic direction. It was one of the religious revivals (one also thinks of the Tractarians in England) that revived Christianity and the Catholic Church after the collapse of the 18th century.

One of foremost exemplars of Romanticism in the visual arts was Caspar David Friedrich. He is currently the subject of a splendid exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Friedrich’s art emphasizes the less obvious, the mysterious, “the road less traveled.” In general landscapes predominate. There are many scenes of the twilight but also of the sunrise. In some paintings the symbolist movement of the end of the 19th century is foreshadowed. Other paintings remind the viewer even of 20th century abstract art. It’s a marked contrast with the dominant artistic tendency of art at that time: neo-classicism. In all respects it preserves a spiritual focus – a symbolic meaning almost always lies beneath the surface.

I cannot recommend the explantory materials provided on the exhibition which typify the attitudes that prevail in Germany today rather than clarifying what Friedrich himself intended. But for those who preserve a spiritual view of the world this exhibition is immensely rewarding.

More on the Exhibition:

Caspar David Friedrich:The Soul of Nature

(Exhibition runs through May 11)

On Thursday, April 24, 2025, we attended the Higher Word Easter concert (“Rise Again’) at Old St. Patrick’s Cathedral. The 50+ member Higher Word orchestra and choir is an explicitly Catholic musical enterprise. The music for the evening was by Catholic composers and the introductions to each piece emphasized their links to the Faith. Old St. Patrick’s was filled for the occasion with an often festively attired crowd. I definitely felt my age – I would say the average age of the audience was in the mid-20’s. The concert was preceded and followed by social events (which I did not attend)  which helps to explain the fancy dress of much of the crowd.  

The musical offerings and accompanying explanations were on the short side, and very user-friendly.  At times processions and dramatic light effects enhanced the event. The audience received the evening enthusiastically.

The spirit of Higher Word reminds me of what an earlier generation of young Catholics attempted to achieve in the City. In the 1980’s the Catholic Forum also tried to combine knowledge of Catholicism with opportunities for social mixing. However,  instead of music, the Forum generally offered lectures by Catholic greats of the past – I can’t say that that was an equally attractive proposition. I recall that the Forum also organized more purely social events, but I don’t think any had remotely the success of last Thursday’s concert.  

Perhaps a change of generation it also involved. For despite (or because of) the decrepitude of the Catholic Church establishment, a new generation is turning to the faith. The New York Post recently covered the phenomenon in New York City:

Why young People are Converting to Catholicism en Masse.

I have seen and have been told of the same developments elsewhere in and around New York. Is it because of the influence of podcasts and social media apostolates? Is it the shock of the sudden political change in the United States? Or a more significant spiritual transformation that’s underway? 

For more on Higher Word see higherword.org.