While listening to the general intercessions today during the Good Friday liturgy, I couldn’t help but think about all the hubbub that was raised recently when Pope Benedict made the Latin-rite Mass more widely available.
I had some good, mentally stable friends tell me that the Pope’s gesture signaled the beginning of the end of the Second Vatican Council reforms; that the priests would soon turn their backs – literally and figuratively – on the people; that the Church was about to become a fortress of spiritual repression, where domineering, Latin-speaking clergy would rule ruthlessly over a servile laity… well, you can guess the rest.
I’m particularly bemused by the concern over clerical back turning. Am I supposed to think it self-evidently worse for priests to have their backs to the congregation than for them to turn their backs on the tabernacle? And why am I not supposed to be just as offended by sight of the backs of all the parishioners in front of me that are turned toward me? Is the front pew the only place to be for those sensitive folk at risk of feeling excluded from a feast to which they’ve been personally invited by God?
I was approached by a particularly irate parishioner in Dunkin’ Donuts one morning, who explained to me (complete with a lesson on the finer points of Latin) how he was certain that the disgraceful reintroduction of the term “perfidious Jews” into the Good Friday liturgy would set Catholic/Jewish relations back decades. It turns out he had no idea what he was talking about, but facts are such an encumbrance during the middle of an outrage session anyway!
I find it terribly difficult to understand the lack of trust so many Catholics have in the Church – which is exactly what this smacks of, to me. I’m not unaware of the feet of clay that encumber us all, including all who guide Peter’s barque, but how can anyone who feasts at the table of the altar not be amazed at the nature of the Divine gift which is the Church? If we believe that the Church is the Body of Christ, then a meaningful faith in that same Christ would seem to demand a certain level of confidence in His desire – and ability – to lead His Bride into “all truth” (c.f. Jn 16.13).
◊
Then there is the curious situation of Jewish leaders saying “something must be done” about the prayer for the Jews which actually is said as part of the current Tridentine Good Friday liturgy, because in it, the Church prays for the conversion of the Jews. OK, so . . . what am I missing?
If the Christian Church believes that Jesus Christ is the Son of God – the very Incarnation of God – and that fellowship with Christ (communion) is the means to complete reconciliation with God – and thus to eternal life in pure, wondrous bliss – then why exactly is it offensive to express to God a genuine, loving desire that someone else come to share in that? In the English of the Novus Ordo, we pray that the Jews may come “to the fullness of redemption,” and this appears not to offend anyone. Being at least modestly familiar with Catholic theology, this suggests to me that it’s OK to wink, but not to nod.
I understand that most Jews do not accept Jesus as the Christ. I’m not offended by that. And if anyone thinks I’m in error, and wants to pray sincerely to God that I come to a full understanding of the truth and abandon my belief in Jesus as Lord, I won’t be offended. To the contrary, I would accept the gesture offered in good faith. I think that by coming to understand the truth more fully, I would be even firmer in my conviction of the Lordship (and Godhood) of Jesus Christ, but that doesn’t give me the right to assume malice on the part of anyone who honestly thinks I should come to a different conclusion. And I will certainly not tell other people what they should or should not pray for.
◊
This may be a politically incorrect thing for me to say (imagine that), but I think the position of those Jewish leaders (I have no idea if it is many, or just a few that manage to get press) who have agitated to have the Catholic Church’s liturgy changed reflects nothing other than religious intolerance on their part. Judaism may not be evangelistic, but Christianity is – by its very nature.
Any meaningful understanding of religious tolerance would have to allow for Christians, and anyone else, to practice their religion faithfully: that is, as they understand it. To be sure, it would not require tolerating malfeasance, religiously motivated or not, but it certainly must allow for charity and goodwill. Modernity’s unwritten rule against proselytizing strikes me as nothing but a weak man’s religious intolerance: Nobody is allowed to challenge the status quo with religious conviction. What a sham.
The prayers for the conversion of Jews (and others) to the knowledge of Christ are offered in charity, and good manners would seem to demand that they be acknowledged as such, in goodwill. If the Jews think we’re bonkers (or idolaters), they can at least take note that we wish for them – nay, pray for them – the most important and wonderful good of which we can conceive. If they want to roll their eyes at us, and say “silly goyim,” well, I’d get a good chuckle out of that, and maybe God would, too. But I never find anything amusing in someone taking offense where none is offered.