Jesse Russell at Catholic World Report has provided a review of Yves Chiron’s Between Rome and Rebellion: A History of Catholic Traditionalism with Special Attention to France ( Angelico Press, Brooklyn, 2024 (John Pepino, translator)):

Russell, Jesse, “French historian delves into the tumultuous history of traditionalism,” Catholic World Report ( 8/20/2025)

Now in reviewing a book it is always a great temptation to substitute the reviewer’s ideas for those of the book being reviewed. But rarely have I seen such an example so extreme as Russell’s review.  I think it’s fair to say a reader of his review would hardly have any idea of the tone and contents of Chiron’s book. Indeed, in most respects it is the exact opposite of Russell’s description. 1)

Let’s start with this review’s title: a “tumultuous history” – compared to what? Has Russell considered, for example,  the vicissitudes of the career of Fr. Fessio, the founder of the organization that publishes Catholic World Report? And the issues within traditionalism pale in comparison with the conflicts that have bedeviled the establishment Church since 1962. This, however, was an issue I also had with Chiron’s history, in that it dealt with traditionalism in isolation. The reader would have little idea of the chaos afflicting the “institutional church” through most of the period covered by Chiron’s history.  Events in traditionalism were often a reaction to developments in the broader Church.

Next, Russell adds significant new material of his own. Notably,  there is an account of the history of “conservatives” and “traditionalists” in the United States which is entirely absent from Chiron’s book which deals with America only tangentially. And what Russell does say about this history is debatable –  to put it mildly. First, he describes the Catholic Church in the United States in 1993 as caught between two pillars or forces.  First, was the Catholic laity who “pursued the faith of their immigrant ancestors, attending mass, joining the Knights of Columbus, wearing Saint Anthony medals and sending their kids to parochial schools.”  Is this an accurate depiction of the life of the Catholic laity in 1993?  I don’t think anyone with memories of that period would agree. Please also note the thinly disguised contempt for the laity that one so often encounters in Catholic establishment (or would-be establishment) publications. 

The second major force in the American Catholicism of that era Russell calls “old liberal” Catholicism. Russell seems to be only mildly critical of the so-called old liberals. Nowhere does he indicate that there’s a fundamental institutional and sociological difference between them and the first mentioned group.  The “old liberals” were dominant in the institutional church, the Catholic media, the schools, the religious orders etc. of the Church. So, it was not at all a contest between equal forces.

Russell then describes the conservative Catholics and their institutions with some accuracy and correctly notes that as of 1993 they were still a minority. According to Russell, John Paul II’s visit to the United States in 1993 propelled the conservative Catholics to a dominant position within American Catholicism. That is exceedingly dubious, because between 1993 and the death of John Paul II conservative Catholics suffered travails and major reversals. They still remained on the fringes of the Church establishment, even though some of their works, like those of George Weigel,  were starting to receive favorable commentary in Rome. Their liturgical ideas (like reform of the reform) had been summarily rejected in the United States( e.g., the controversy over the proper posture for receiving communion). John Paul II was in no way following a consistent policy of appointing “Wojtylian” bishops to consolidate conservative positions. Ominously, the ever-increasing pressure of sexual abuse scandals during this entire period was undermining the conservatives’ defense of the hierarchy and the Vatican. And contrary to what Russell writes, by the 1990’s the traditionalist movement, if still small and facing its own difficulties, was no longer so “marginal.” It had become a real competitor for the conservatives – a thing they had believed to be impossible. The conservatives’ anxieties at that time prompted increased polemics against traditionalists – hardly a symptom of a triumphant movement.

Remarkably, Russell does concede that the alleged dominance of conservative Catholicism has now ended.  He admits that today traditionalism is the greater force in the American Catholic Church. How did this come about? Russell attributes the current situation primarily to the development of an “internet conspiracy culture.”  Really? Wasn’t there a papal document called Summorum Pontificum in the meantime ? Weren’t the Ecclesia Dei communities expanding their presence? And then if we turn our attention to the Church as a whole, wasn’t there the pontificate of Pope Francis? That pope specifically rejected the liturgical, political and economic positions of the conservative Catholics and unleashed a tidal wave of abuse – in all senses of the term – which motivated more and more Catholics to turn to traditionalism instead of conservative Catholicism. I should add that some of the earliest and most prominent internet personalities were not traditionalist at all but conservative Catholic: Mark Shea, Amy Welborn …

To the extent Russell deals with Chiron’s book it is only to take isolated passages out of context to support the positions Russell himself is advocating. His review is a long diatribe against traditionalists, who are painted in the darkest of colors.  Russell concedes repeatedly that Chiron’s book is sympathetic to traditionalism. However, he then claims it debunks “myths” of the traditionalists and contains “shocking” revelations about them and their leaders. They subsist on conspiracy theories and exhibit “pathological” behavior. Russell seeks to fit Chiron into a conservative Catholic framework of analysis, in which obedience to a presumably impeccable authority is the supreme, even exclusive virtue. Those who do not obey have only themseves to blame for whatever actions Church authorities take against them. Chiron does seem to favor irenic policies and recoils from the hard decisions men like Archbishop Lefebvre felt they had to take. But in no way does he advocate blind obedience to authority and throughout the book criticizes the actions of Church authorities in France and elsewhere.

To cite one example of his method, Russell singles out a supposed vision of Archbishop Lefebvre regarding founding a seminary, subsequently confirmed in a visit to French visionary Marthe Robin, as demonstrating the alleged reliance of traditionalists on private revelations disfavored by the Church. This topic is only the matter of a few sentences on one page in Chiron’s book, but Russell develops it into a major indictment. But does he know who Marthe Robin was? She’s much more strongly associated with the French clerical establishment and especially various officially recognized charismatic groups rather than with traditionalism. In recent years many of these groups have been rocked by major scandals. Of course, Russell insinuates that sexual abuse scandals are significant within traditionalism. There have indeed been such scandals,  that is clear, but they are as nothing compared to the (ongoing) situation in the “establishment” Catholic Church. 

Russell seems to end his review of Chiron’s book by discussing events in the mid 1970s.   I wonder if he stopped reading at that point. I would have expected, for example, that someone with his biases would have something to say about the concluding chapter of Chiron’s book dealing with Pope Francis.

Russell’s review of Chiron’s history says very little about that book but much about one subset of conservative Catholic culture in the United States. Conservative Catholicism is a movement currently lacking a head (at least until we find out more about the positions of Pope Leo). Once again, their liturgical ideas have been directly attacked  – this time by the bishops of Detroit and Charlotte, both acolytes of the late Pope Francis. And they seem to be up in the air regarding their attitude to Trump. It is a major dilemma for a movement posing as an omniscient “party of the establishment.” 

As we have chronicled it in the past, the response to this situation by many conservative Catholics has either been to fall silent entirely or to resume advocating their favorite issues but avoid commenting on the role of the papacy. But for a minority, the reaction to this period of uncertainty has been to renew savage attacks on traditionalists. 2) And these conservative Catholics, such as Russell, show a remarkably understanding attitude to the progressives. That’s very strange, because, after all, it was the conflict with the Catholic progressive “forces” (Russell’s word) which gave birth to conservative Catholicism in the first place. Is this all just a tactical move to curry favor with the hierarchy? Perhaps – although in the light of the experience of recent decades it is a fond hope. And I doubt the rediscovered belligerent demeanor towards traditionalists will stir up support for the conservative Catholic cause among the steadily diminishing ranks of the laity. For it doesn’t suffice to repeat, as Jesse Russell does, conservative Catholic and establisment Catholic platitudes like:

 (Catholics should) seek to be, first and foremost, simply Catholic and a follower of Jesus Christ.

For the point is that there is no longer a “simply Catholic” position but antagonistic theological and political forces which exist within the Church. This struggle involves not theoretical debates at some remote level but fundamental issues which confront the life of the believer: the basics of the faith, the nature of the liturgy, divorce, marriage, contraception, abortion, homosexuality, euthanasia. It is becuse of these issues that the traditionalist movement exists – and why it will not go away.

1. In 2022, I wrote a review  – favorable but not uncritical –  of the French original, which has the less grandiose but more accurate title Histoire des Traditionalistes:  Chessman, Stuart, “Histoire des Traditionalistes,” The Society of St. Hugh of Cluny ( 5/27/2022). I believe John Pepino did not translate one significant section of this book.
2. See Chessman, Stuart, “Apologetics Director,” The Society of St. Hugh of Cluny (8/18/2025)

Your Statutes were my Song in the Land of Exile: The Sorrows and the Joys of the Battle for a Birthright

(For the Whole Christ: The Collected Works of Dr John Rao, volume 3) 

2025 Arouca Press, Waterloo, Ontario

199 Pages

I should say up front that I have known John Rao since the early 1980s and indeed have written a blurb for this book. Yet, although I have met him many times over the decades, for one reason or another my acquaintance with Dr. Rao and his writings is not as great at it could have been. Except for one very brief and atypical encounter(post-Covid, on Long Island!) I have never attended any of his annual Gardone retreats. Nor, except at their very beginning, have I had the chance  to hear his annual lectures on Catholic history.  Moreover, except for the chapter  “The Freed Mass,” which mentions a conference the St Hugh of Cluny Society organized in 2007, I had not previously read any of the essays collected in Your Statutes were my Song. Accordingly, I read this slim volume with interest.  It’s an invaluable resource for the student of the traditionalist movement in the United States written by a direct participant in the trials and triumphs of Catholic traditionalism.

Although individual essays deal with events as far back as 1970 (and 1000 AD!) and as recent as 2017, the heart of the book deals with the period between 1999 and 2007. This was the era I described in American Catholic Traditionalism as “Part II of the Indult” – a time of confusion, even spiritual trial for traditionalists. 1) After the hopes raised by Ecclesia Dei and the amazing achievements that quickly followed, the Traditionalists soon realized that their fanatical enemies in the institutional Church were by no means prepared to allow the TLM to flourish. And the “conservative Catholics,” deserted by the hierarchy on issues like kneeling for communion and for whom Ecclesia Dei was an affront to their liturgical dogmas, responded with ever more bitter attacks on traditionalists. This had its effect on some supporters of the TLM. As Rao writes: “Some people, disturbed by the uncertainties and nightmares of unbridled change, are convinced that they are living in the end times.”  

Yet the traditionalist movement could and did not succumb to apocalyptic temptations. Rao describes the mood of this era from a unique vantage point:  in 1999 he became president of Una Voce-US; in 2004 he was forced out for being, it seems,  too critical of the papacy. An interesting accusation against one who had started his academic career with an examination of  the Ultramontane Civiltà Cattolica of the Pius IX years! For Rao had to face the basic conflict within Una Voce: between a strong commitment to the TLM and  the desire to remain in the graces of the hierarchy and the Vatican, with whom Una Voce always dreamed of striking a deal. It was a tightrope walk that he himself could not manage.  

Your Statutes were my Song  recalls for us events of that time that illustrate the conflicting currents in the traditionalist world.  Notably, in 1999 the FSSP was shaken by an internal uprising against its leadership by “the sixteen.” (a group of priests wanting compromise with institutional Church and the Novus Ordo) With its usual underhandedness,  the Vatican immediately responded favorably to their complaints by issuing a document that ultimately would have made the FSSP, in the best case, “bi-ritual.”  By 2001 the crisis had died down without the worst fears of the traditionalists being realized . Yet the FSSP never recovered its leading position in the “Uniate” (post-Ecclesia Dei)traditionalist movement. 

This era came to an end with the arrival of Summorum Pontificum.

Throughout Your Statutes were my Song  John Rao makes trenchant observations and draws prescient conclusions fascinating for their relevance to today. Here are a few:

(Regarding the restrictions the Vatican proposed to impose on the FSSP in response to the revolt of the “sixteen”)

“[S]igns” and “law” are set against one another in order to permit arbitrary action. Hence, signs of the times, such as concelebration with a local Ordinary, are elevated to tests of loyalty, freeing one from the suspicion of schismatic tendencies, despite the fact that legally no one is supposed to be forced to celebrate.

(In 2003 Rao wrote critically of the supposed  “golden age” of the years immediately preceding Vatican II)

American Catholicism in the 1950s and early 1960s was not a model for the world, whether on theological and pastoral grounds or, generally even more, on liturgical ones. …  Sloppiness at Low Masses and inattention to ceremonies and proper music at High Masses was very common. … As one Una Voce leader summarized his experience to me, the 1950s, in many respects, was actually a period of decline, covered over by a great deal of success on the statistical level.  Still, there remains the temptation to look upon this period as the norm for restoration purposes.

(Regarding certain historical assertions contained in Summorum Pontificum)

From what I remember, Paul VI did not merely fail to anticipate the strength of attachment to the Traditional Mass. Rather, he was enthusiastically committed to a liturgical revolution which he knew and expressly indicated would offend pious people. …

Still, these are the games that institutions, including divine institutions with a human side, regularly play.  The rediscovery by the Church of her proper pathway (after going astray – SC) is generally a messy, halting, and not fully honest affair. It almost never takes place in one, clean, action-packed cinema-like scene.  

(Rao, however,  fully understood the immense significance of Summorum Pontificum)

Historical game playing, painful though it can be, is a minor blemish on the flesh of Summorum Pontificum compared to the significance of its return to traditional forms and familiar words in its pastoral language.  The potential number of glorious consequences stemming from such a remarkable and courageous recovery of a rhetoric pronounced irrevocably dead by the powerful of this world is great.

How these words, written in 2007, resonate with us after the subsequent war  – to a large extent continuing – of Pope Francis and his clique against the TLM and, really, all of Catholic tradition. And now traditionalists are (still) hoping for action on the part of Pope Leo.  Rao’s accurate summary of how the Church changes course offers consolation if, as is likely, the way back for traditionalists is a long, tortuous process.

There are many other gems in this concise book- I can only mention a handful.  The chapter “From Hoboken to Eternity” is a miniature biography of the author, setting out facts of which I was unaware. It turns out that, like many others (including myself), John Rao developed his liturgical understanding through frequenting the Divine Liturgy of the Eastern Church. And that for several years in the pre-indult wilderness,  he served as a lector in Novus Ordo masses at Our Lady of Pompeii in New York! Dr. Rao frankly discusses the personal spiritual trials of his early years.  

In “The Waiting Game,”  Rao gives us an inspiring account of how the Holy Roman emperor intervened in 1007 onward to restore the papacy, suffering through its darkest hours.  For, contrary to Ultramontane myths, the two universal powers of the Middle Ages, the pope and the emperor, were originally not antagonistic but complementary. In “Malcolm Muggeridge, John Vennari and the Prince-Bishopric of Bamberg” he speaks in glowing terms of the “magical kingdom” of the city of Bamberg, Germany, created by that same Holy Roman Empire. And this incomparable Romanesque, Gothic and Baroque city, which Rao calls a “Bavarian Catholic Oz,”  is my personal favorite as well! In both these historical essays, Dr. Rao doesn’t only describe the past but creatively uses it to develop instructive examples for the present.   Finally, the author offers us a moving tribute to the late Fr. Ignacio Barreiro, a champion of the TLM and the pro-life cause. 

I do have some criticisms. Your Statutes were my Song would be of greater utility to readers not having extensive familiarity with the issues and people encountered in this book if introductions, notes and an index had been included.  I myself am still confused as to the organization and history of Una Voce-US. There also seems to be a recurrent problem with the chapter headings printed at the top pf each page. 

In a sense, Your Statutes were my Song is a melancholy book. Despite the hopes of Summorum Pontificum,  traditionalism is once again the adversary of the Church establishment. Yet through all the years covered by this book, Dr. John Rao never gave up hope – but a hope always informed by realism. I conclude by quoting the following passage of Rao’s “The Waiting Game” so very relevant to these days. Just as today anticipations are rising regarding possible actions of Pope Leo, so in 2007 traditionalists waited for the rumored motu proprio of Pope Benedict:

Waiting games, whether they involve wondering when a delayed  airplane flight will actually take off or speculating if a long-desired moto proprio will ever see the light of day, are never a particularly entertaining pastime for normal people.  …. It may well be the case that our undeniably good-willed Pope will have ended the current Traditionalist Waiting Game with respect to the liturgy by the time the present article is published. But even if he does so, I still think that we Tridentini, who have suffered so much from ambiguity and disappointed hopes over the past 40 years, and have continued to cherish the Papacy and Rome through all the heartbreak just the same, ought to explore the many twists and turns that the miserable Waiting Game can take just a wee bit longer…. 

1. Chessman, Stuart , Catholic Traditionalism in the United States: Notes for a History Part 4 (The Era of the Indult (Part II) 1993-2007) (The Society of St. Hugh of Cluny, 2014)

In a recent visit to the cathedrals of England we encountered the traces of the prior occupant: the Catholic Church. Here and there the memory – and sometimes the tombs – of the medieval saints are preserved. For the devotion to the saints was and still is characteristic of the Catholic Church in England. Many of the great cathedrals owe their architectural splendor to the medieval pilgrims who thronged to the graves of the saints revered there.

Of course, the most famous saint was Thomas Becket. His shrine in Canterbury Cathedral was the main pilgrimage destination of England – as immortalized by Geoffrey Chaucer.

(Above and below) The place in Canterbury Cathedral where St. Thomas Becket’s magnificent shrine once stood. The Church of England seems to have no difficulty in commemorating “St. Thomas of Canterbury” – whose cult in England was extirpated by that denomination’s founder.

(Above and below) Where St. Thomas was martyred.

Saints often had been outstanding bishops of their diocese and leaders both in Church and state. (Above) The (former) tomb of St. Osmund in Salisbury Cathedral: pilgrims could see or touch the relics of the saint through the openings. The famous reliquary was destroyed in the Reformation. (Below) The tomb of St. William, the patron saint of York. (York Cathedral)

Durham Cathedral still contains the tombs of two early English (Anglo-Saxon) saints. (Above) Saint Cuthbert (ca. 634 – 687) (Below) The tomb of Venerable Bede (672/3 – 735) in the “Galilee” chapel. They both were instrumental in the founding and consolidation of the Catholic Church in England. The relics of both had been translated (moved) to Durham early in the Middle Ages.

Such was the faith of Catholics in medieval England. But what of the age of the Reformation and beyond?

Canterbury Cathedral still houses the grave of another more recent Catholic archbishop. Cardinal Reginald Pole, the last Roman Catholic archbishop of Canterbury, was one of the most outstanding prelates of Europe and even was considered for the papacy. He was archbishop under Queen Mary I and supported her in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to restore Catholicism as the official faith of England. The extent to which he was involved in her campaign against heretics is disputed. But scholars like Eamon Duffy think that despite this “failure” of a Catholic restoration, Mary and Pole planted the seeds fof the recusant resistance of the next 270 years. Tragically, Pole died in 1558 while under bitter attack by the possibly crazy Pope Paul IV.

(Above) The tomb of Cardinal Pole in Canterbury Cathedral.

(Above) The tomb of the repudiated Queen Catherine of Aragon in Peterborough Cathedral (up to the time of Henry VIII, an abbey). She was buried here in 1536. Her tomb was subsequently destroyed by the Puritans – the existing decorative slab is a contribution of the late 19th century. We should reflect on her life and its lessons for the Church of Amoris Laetitia. A second tragic Catholic queen, Mary Queen of Scots, was once also buried in Peterborough. But her son, King James I, eventually had her body moved to Westminster Abbey after he ascended the English throne in 1603.

(Above) A list of the martyrs of York displayed in the York Oratory (Roman Catholic!)

The English Catholic Church especially reveres the martyrs of the Reformation period onward. Their relics, of course, are not found in Anglican cathedrals! One of the chief of these was Margeret Clitherow of York. She was put to death in a particularly gruesome manner in 1586 (she was pressed or crushed to death). A relic of her survives in the Bar Convent ( a clandestine convent and school established in the 17th century by the Mary Ward sisters)

(Above ) A chapel of St. Margeret Clitherow in the picturesque “Shambles” of York. This was thought to have been her house – but a subsequent renumbering of the houses on the street had been ignored. Her real house still exists, across the street from the chapel. Note the arrangement of the altar….. (Below) The relic of St. Margertet Clitherow – her hand – in the chapel of the Bar Convent.

Finally, not a tomb, but, like the Bar Convent, an ancient reminder of the penal times. The former chapel of the Bavarian embassy – now known as the Church of Our Lady of the Assumptionn and St. Gregory – dates to the period when London Catholics could only worship in chapels of embassies of Catholic countries. The Bavarian chapel, after having been destroyed by the mobs of the anti-Catholic Gordon riots of 1780, was rebuilt around 1790. It is thus one of the oldest Catholic churches built after the Reformation in England. It was, however, extensively redecorated in the 19th century. After a number of recent vicissitudes, it has been entrusted to the Personal Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham. As in the case of the chapel of St. Margeret Clitherow, please note the arrangement of the altar.

These mementos of the English martyrs and the sufferings of the penal times are especially relevent to traditionalists. For we are still officially persecuted – this time by the establishment of our own church. Reflection on the history of the Catholic Church in England helps put our situation in perspective. Consider the surrender of almost the entire English hierarchy under Henry VIII – except for one bishop, St. John Fisher of Rochester. The persecution of Catholics that began then lasted, with a few reprieves, almost 300 years! And if physical violence had (mostly) died down after the 17th century, at all times in these years English Catholics were denounced, segregated, and excluded from most aspects of public life. Yet they persevered and in the 19th century a Catholic renaissance did indeed take place. One of the main spiritual leaders of that recovery, St. John Henry Newman, is about to be made a doctor of the Church. But this renewal was only possible by virtue of previous generations of Catholics who had kept the faith through seeemingly hopeless times. And also by the sacrifice of so many who paid the ultimate price for that faith.

Close the Workshop: How the Old Mass isn’t Broken and the New Mass can’t be Fixed

By Peter A. Kwasniewski

431 Pages 

Angelico Press, Brooklyn, NY 2025

Peter Kwasniewski has said that Close the Workshop completes and summarizes his vast written labors for the Traditional Mass.  I can only agree with him on this! Kwasniewski approaches the Traditional Mass (“TLM”) as a writer, theologian, philosopher, musician, organizer, editor and activist on behalf of Catholic tradition.  Accordingly, Close the Workshop deals with both the theory and practice of the TLM. 

One word of warning to the reader; Close the Workshop is not the product of a would-be ecclesiastical politician, attempting to win the favor of Church authorities. The author is passionate and forthright,  unafraid of ruffling the feathers of the hierarchy. This substantial book is directed to those who love the TLM and want to find  a resource to help them understand, defend, explain and celebrate the TLM.

The author’s uncompromising position is evident from the full title of this book. Kwasniewski acknowledges that the TLM and the Novus Ordo stand in direct contrast to each other and spells it out in great detail.  And Kwasniewski frankly argues for the superiority of the TLM over the Novus Ordo. Further,  he disputes any need for ‘mutual enrichment” of the two liturgies. The TLM does not need enrichment from the Novus Ordo;  the importation into the Novus Ordo of elements of a prior liturgical tradition contradicts the liturgical principles of the new rite (such as the exclusive emphasis on the verbal communication of content, or the priority placed on the spontaneity of the “presider” ). 

In my immediate vicinity a good illustration can be found of this fundamental divergence in practice between the two liturgical forms. Not too far from where I live is a “conservative “ parish devoted to the Novus Ordo but  incorporating traditional artistic and musical elements. Then, there is a second church that regularly celebrates a most complete Solemn TLM.  In the former church,  members of the congregation discuss how each priest celebrates the Mass, and whose “style”  is more congenial to them. In the second, the TLM remains the same, even though that church over the last 20 years has seen it celebrated by three pastors with radically different personalities. 1)

Close the Workshop repudiates the modern compulsion to constantly change or “update” the liturgy.  This urge first arose out of the liturgical movement, reached a climax in the era of Paul VI and Bugnini and continues unabated today in the Novus Ordo. ( see recently, for example, the “Amazonian” rite,  the “Mayan” rite, a potential change to the method of determining the date of Easter) 

Close the Workshop is especially timely today, when certain of the clergy, previously inclined to the TLM but unable to stand up to the persecution of Traditionis Custodes, have resurrected the ”Reform of the Reform” as a supposedly viable alternative to the TLM. This seems incredible, given the condemnation of such practices (and the use of the very term) by Francis, and the explicit attacks on all elements of prior Catholic tradition made by the late Pope’s most devoted followers: Cupich, Grillo, Weisenburger, Martin etc. As Kwasniewski points out,  “Reform of the Reform” seeks to placate the Church establishment by introducing forms which that same establishment condemns. 

Conclusions similar to Kwasniewski’s were already implicit in Martin Mosebach’s seminal 2001 Heresy of Formlessness. The first book review published on this blog pointed out that, in this work, Mosebach portrayed the TLM not as an option for gratifying the subjective aesthetic or nostalgic feelings of a few, but as an objective necessity, even a universal requirement for the Church.2)  And, during his 2007 visit to the U.S. presenting that book, Mosebach expressly rejected suggestions from the audience to restart tinkering with the TLM.  He stated that what is needed is liturgical consolidation,  not another wave of change.

 But since those days there have been many years of practical experience with the TLM as it developed after Summorum Pontificum. Many studies have been published which analyze the liturgical texts and music and elucidate their history (including the relation of the Novus Ordo to the documents of the Council and the actions of Paul VI),  These works make possible a more detailed understanding of each liturgical form and of the scope of the changes the Novus Ordo introduced.  Close the Workshop draws on the author’s extensive participation in these developments. 

The late Pope Francis and his close liturgical associates would also agree with the view that the TLM and the Novus Ordo reflect different theologies and should remain separated. In contrast to Kwasniewski, of course, they view the TLM as the defective product of a superseded past. And their words and policies make clear that the TLM (and all cultural aspects associated with it) should not be allowed to contaminate the Novus Ordo.  As a technique of harassment, however, Novus Ordo forms on occasion have been imposed upon the celebration of  the TLM. Kwasniewski devotes a special chapter to the “hybridization” threat. (“The  Liturgical Rollercoaster”)

The second half of Close the Workshop is primarily devoted to practical responses to specific issues of the TLM today.  Some chapters answer specific objections to the TLM and traditionalism. Suggestions for “improvements” to the TLM are considered at length and rejected. Kwasniewski then offers practical advice on celebrating the TLM. He even has a few words of advice (and comfort)to those who feel they can only celebrate the Novus Ordo whle incorporating  elements of tradition. For, although that practice somewhat contradicts the thesis of this book, the author understands the need for guidance in this area. Moreover, Kwasniewski does discuss suggestions for improving  the celebration of the TLM (“Modest Proposals for Improving Low Mass”).

Is it not strange? – the TLM, as it is frequently celebrated today, actually comes closer than the monotonous chaos of the Novus Ordo to realizing some key concepts of the Council (insofar as these had any real meaning and were not merely a code word for overthrowing the historic culture of the Church). For example, ecumenism. The Byzantine divine liturgy has strongly influenced the liturgical sensibilities of so many traditionalists. Kwasniewski himself has extensive direct experience of the Byzantine rite and its music. The TLM,  as a bridge to understanding the Divine Liturgy, can serve as a link with the Orthodox. And as for active participation, the intensity of the devotion of a congregation at a Solemn TLM has always amazed and inspired me. And that devotion rests on a solid understanding of the texts and participation in the music,  where appropriate. These are real achievements – and Peter Kwasniewski’s book is an invaluable resource for deepening that devotion and understanding.

1. My thanks to Stuart J. Chessman for these observations
2. Echecs, Cedric, “A Review of Mosebach’s Heresy of Formlessness“ (The Society of St. Hugh of Cluny, 8/22/2007; originally published in www.catholicreform.org 9/20/2003.)

A large fire destroyed a historic church that was beloved by the community – St. John the Baptist Church in Maria Stein(!). It was one of a number of Catholic churches in that region of Ohio which were built by German immigrants.

Steeple collapses after fire rips through historic Catholic church (WHIO -TV 7, 5/29/2025; with many photos)

Is this not as potent a symbol of the Catholic Church today as was the 2019 fire in Notre Dame cathedral in Paris? Particularly when the Catholic clerical, liturgical establishment is mustering its forces in and outside the United States for a decisive battle with both Traditionalism and “reform of the reform.”

Coincidentally Charles Coulombe has just published in Crisis an acccount of the crack-up of traditional American culture taking as its starting point the burning of historic Nottoway plantation in Louisiana.

Coulombe, Charles, “The Burning of Nottoway and the New Pope: American Identity and the Future of Catholicism,” Crisis Magazine (5/30/2025)

For the destruction of this magnificent 1859 mansion was greeted with indifference by most people, with equivocation by local poltical and cultural leaders and even with satisfaction by others. For to them this house was a symbol of an evil American past.

Mr. Coulombe thinks the end of our inherited Protestant American society and culture may open the door to a new Catholic revival. But how is a Church also at war with its own culture, history and beliefs going to accomplish this? For the Church of the Council is not an alternative, but the mirror image of Western, secular society – which it tries so hard to emulate. That is the ultimate origin of the liturgical war recently launched by the hierarchy in the Charlotte diocese. The burning of St. John the Baptist church in Ohio is a most telling sign – an “ideogram” (Ezra Pound!) – of Catholic disarray.

St Joan of Arc. A past victim of episcopal malfeasance(Bishop Pierre Cauchon of Beauvais ). Later, the decision of Cauchon’s court was overturned and much later Joan was canonized.

What have we learned about Pope Leo so far  – at this very early stage of his papacy? What have his initial actions  – or his inaction – revealed about the potential direction of his pontificate? Let us remember that many of the steps being taken at this moment were agreed and decided before the election of Leo. Their disclosure at this time is nevertheless significant.

As to his appointments, on May 25 we read:

The Holy Father has appointed His Eminence Cardinal Robert Sarah, prefect emeritus of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, as his special envoy to preside over the liturgical celebrations to be held on 25 and 26 July 2025 at the Shrine of Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, diocese of Vannes, France….1) 

A ceremonial position, yes – but a mark of a certain favor. Much more important, however, was this announcement on May 22:

Pope Leo XIV has appointed Sister Tiziana Merletti, former Superior General of the Franciscan Sisters of the Poor, as Secretary of the Dicastery for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life. 2) 

There she joins Sister Simona Brambilla in the leadership of the dicastery. I think that at the very minimum this appointment is a vote for the status quo. Let us remember that the “status quo” in this dicastery means that conservative or traditionalist orders (from the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate to the FSSP)are subject to visitations or even takeovers while the progressive and mainstream religious orders and institutes continue on their disastrous downward course in numbers and activities without the slightest interference from Rome. In that regard, I note that, as of 2023, Sister Merletti’s order (which she led 2004-2013) has a total of 106 members. I cannot find information on prior years. 3) The (at least nominal) prefect of the Dicastery, Sr. Simona Brambilla, led her order,  the Missionary Sisters of the Consolata, between 2011 and 2023.  In 2008 they numbered 762 in 128 centers, in 2022, they had 532 members in 73 centers. 4)

As to Traditionalism, we must start our review with the “interregnum” – with the critical illness of Pope Francis. Since then, we have received news of new traditionalist apostolates and initiatives. At least one prelate has made a public statement in favor of at least toning down Traditionis Custodes. The Pentecost pilgrimage to Chartres  has achieved yet another record in participation – subscription is now closed except for children. 

However, all these favorable signs have been offset by other official, specific measures of the Catholic hierarchy and the Vatican:

The drastic restrictions imposed on the celebration of the TLM in the Detroit Archdiocese( announced 4/16/2025);

The expulsion of the institute of Christ the King from Oakland(effective 4/20/2025);

The procedural roadblocks imposed on the Chartres pilgrimage ( issued 5/6/2025, only weeks before the pilgrimage is scheduled to begin);

The expulsion of the FSSP from Valence in France(announced 5/15/2025);

The restrictions on (almost the abolition of) the TLM in the Charlotte diocese( announced 5/23/2025; effective 7/8/2025).

Now Cardinal Roche explicitly participated in drafting the measures against the Chartres pilgrimage; I would be very surprised if other actions listed above (particularly those in Detroit and Charlotte)did not involve at least the relevant nuncio and perhaps the Vatican as well. 

The form of these decrees is as important as the substance. The message is conveyed in curt, authoritarian, bureaucratic language. The texts,  when they do refer to the traditionalists, seems to me to be outright sarcastic or contemptuous. The nebulous, verbose, emotional passages often found in official Catholic documents are not to be found here. Likewise, there is no “dialogue,”  ”accompaniment,” “tenderness,” or “mercy.” These allegedly sacrosanct principles fall by the wayside when dealing when someone perceived as an actual enemy. 

The earlier actions seem to me like opportunistic moves on the part of the establishment to take advantage of the last days of the rule of Francis or to create a fait accompli in advance of whatever new regime might come. The later actions, after the election of Leo – particularly that in Charlotte – seem more like a demonstration of strength, even a challenge, to the new pope. For I think those in the Vatican and locally involved in such decisions expect that the pope will take no action against them. 

For even assuming Pope Leo disagrees in part or totally with the anti-traditionalist campaign of Francis (which is not at all clear!) these actions put him in a difficult spot. For if it is his intent to disengage from the Bergoglian course,  I would assume he would want to do so only gradually. Now, however, he will have to overrule bishops or one of his own officials in the earliest days of his papacy. This would bring down on his head the wrath of the dominant progressive forces in the Church and the secular media which stand behind them. But by doing nothing on these matters he will be giving the progressives carte blanche to do whatever they want. Their agenda, let us remember, is by no means limited to exterminating traditionalism. There is the unfinished grand project of the synodal path in Germany and elsewhere (married priests, women priests and elimination of the remaining restraints of Catholic sexual morality). A less obvious conflict between progressives (and the Vatican) and Opus Dei continues in Spain and elsewhere. Bishops in the United States and Italy call for the abolition of kneeling when receiving communion – repudiating a decades-old compromise.

So, for the time being at least, the Church’s war of annihilation against traditionalism – and really against the totality of its own heritage – continues. Whether this conflict can be sustained long-term is another matter. Will the acolytes of Francis be able to persevere in the war against the traditionalists, absent the fanatic will of their late master? Financial and personnel realities will likely soon catch up with the Vatican and the local churches. I can’t exclude the possibility that even more unsavory details of Francis and his entourage will emerge, putting the establishment under pressure.  Whatever may happen, it is regrettably unlikely that peace will return to the Catholic Church anytime soon. 

1. Resignations and Appointments, 24.05.2025, Press.Vatican.va.
2. Vatican News, 5/22/2025’
3. “Franciscan Sisters of the Poor,” Catholic-Hierarchy.org.
4. “Suore Missionarie della Consolata,” Catholic Hierachy.org; “Suore Missionarie della Consolata, it.wikipedia.org.

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. 

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.

When the Sea Recedes: The Tragedy of the Church in the 21st Century

By Jean-Pierre Maugendre

(Éditions Contretemps 2024)

When the Sea (or Tide) Recedes is a major new addition to the traditionalist library. It’s a selection of essays that chronicles life in the Catholic Church and in Western Europe between 2005 and 2023. 

I do have to warn the American reader. This is a very French book. It is Maurrassian, rightist, political and traditionalist – all anathema to mainstream Catholics (to the extent they still exist) in both France and the United States. Jean-Pierre Maugendre tells his story with intensity, panache and personal commitment. His speech is clear, decisive yet controlled. His positions are unambiguous – but hysteria, eccentricity and fanaticism are absent. Although some of his views – such those regarding the French abandonment of Algeria – may send “middle-of-the-road” Catholics into uncontrolled rage.

A further warning to the American reader relates to the subtitle of this book. Much of the book in fact deals not with the Church but with French politics and society. Indeed, it presupposes some knowledge of what has happened in France over the last 20 years. But again, this is very characteristic of the French right, which acknowledges and affirms the political dimension of the Catholic faith. The side-by-side narrative of When the Sea Recedes, covering events both political and religious, makes clear the unavoidable interaction between the Catholic faith and politics. 

And this link with the political world cuts both ways. The French right engages in politics on the basis of its faith. On the other side of the coin, as the ruling culture of Western civil society becomes ever more anti-Christian and totalitarian, those same tendencies become manifest as well in the “establishment” Catholic Church under Pope Francis. For although the Catholic mainstream and progressives rage against the political commitment of the French Catholic right, this is only because (a) they reject the right’s political positions; and (b) they themselves are infinitely more political than the right ever has been. Anyone who reads the National Catholic Reporter, the official media of the Catholic churches of France and Germany or has followed the actions of Pope Francis and the Jesuit order can verify this. The politics of the progressives, however, is a pale copy of that of the secular establishment. In contrast, what Maugendre calls, quoting sociologist Yann Raison du Cleuziou, “observant” Catholicism: “sets as its top priority the integral transmission of the Catholic faith and does not give up enriching civil society by the values of the Gospel.” (p.398)

I have to admire the author and the French right for their indomitable spirit. On the French political front, they suffer defeat after defeat on issues like abortion and same-sex marriage. Despite the grave failings of Macron over the last three years,  the French political establishment continues to be able to exclude the rightist party from any role in the French government. And despite intermittent widespread public outrage over uncontrolled immigration, gay marriage and disastrous economic policies, the French right never is able to capture a majority of the electorate.  Yet, there’s never any slacking off of the intensity of the right’s engagement. 

The same can be said in relation to the Church. In the first ten years covered by this book the Catholic traditionalists received unprecedented recognition from Rome, if far less so on the national level. Since the accession of Francis, of course, all this has been reversed, and the Vatican has undertaken a new campaign against Catholic tradition. And while these struggles convulse the Church, Maugendre reminds us again and again of the relentless, drastic collapse of the Faith, as evidenced in the statistics of declining baptisms, marriages, and vocations in France – things that don’t seem to perturb the hierarchs of the Church. More recently, the cause of the French Catholic traditionalists has experienced fresh defeats in Pope Francis’s all-out war against Catholic tradition, such as the deposition of Bishop Dominique Rey. To continue Maugendre’s metaphor – is the sea still retreating? 

….

The sea of faith

Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore

Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl’d;

But now I only hear

Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, 

Retreating to the breath

Of the night-wind down the vast edges drear

And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true

To one another! for the world, which seems 

To lie before us like a land of dreams,

So various, so beautiful, so new,

Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

And we are here as on a darkling plain 

Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,

Where ignorant armies clash by night.

“Dover Beach” by Matthew Arnold (1822–1888)

Yet Maugendre rejects such a mood of resignation. In all the trials he describes he finds much about which to rejoice.  Such as the recent overwhelming turnout for the traditionalist pilgrimage from Paris to Chartres. (We just now hear that the French episcopate – and the Vatican – have backed off from ideas of closing Chartres cathedral to the pilgrims in 2025.)  Or in his retelling the stories of those who, in one way or another, had fought the good fight in politics or in the Church. Maugendre celebrates in this book the legacy of such varied personalities as Benedict XVI, Helie Denoix de Saint Marc and Jean Madiran.  And although it undoubtedly took place after the work on this book closed,  I’m sure Maugendre has welcomed the “miracle” of Donald Trump which has unleashed a counter-woke wave throughout the world. Maugendre was fighting the same struggle years ago. For example, in June 2010 Maugendre already anticipated J.D. Vance in stating the obvious truth of the “hierarchy of charity.” (p.121). 

As Maugendre tell us, such events and people confirm that situations are never hopeless.  “Because that which seems inevitable never is, it’s never in vain to resist it.” That’s especially true in religion where the ultimate triumph of the truth is assured.  “It isn’t the hope of victory, but the necessity of struggle that makes the Christian warrior.” (p.21)

We know the sea of faith will return again!