Catholicism

Thanksgiving for Summorum Pontificum Almost 17 years Later

           In 2007, Pope Benedict XVI signed a groundbreaking motu proprio which affirmed the right of all Latin rite priests to offer the sacraments according to the books in place before the second Vatican Council, restoring a liturgical unity within the Latin church and reconciling her to the principles of liturgical continuity. What comes to most peoples’ minds will be the liberty given to offer the old Mass (the 1962 Missale Romanum or Usus Antiquior), but it must also be noted that Summorum Pontificum (SP) gifted the Church all the traditional sacrament books (which includes all the traditional forms of the sacraments, breviaries, etc.) that were in use prior to the Second Vatican Council. Even other traditional Latin rites (e.g. the traditional Dominican, Carmelite, or Ambrosian rites) have since experienced their own revivals in the aftermath of SP. The heart of the Holy Father’s philosophical justification was articulated in his letter accompanying SP in which he wrote: 

What earlier generations held as sacred, remains sacred and great for us too, and it cannot be all of a sudden entirely forbidden or even considered harmful.  It behooves all of us to preserve the riches which have developed in the Church’s faith and prayer, and to give them their proper place.

As we see in  many of his liturgical writings and reflections, this principle of valuing what came before as sacred permeates Pope Benedict’s understanding of liturgy and the Church itself. Even in his pre-papal memoirs, “Milestones: Memoirs: 1927-1977”, then-cardinal Ratzinger, reflecting on his first hand-missal, writes of the Church’s sacred Liturgy: 

It was becoming more and more clear to me that here I was encountering a reality that no one had simply thought up, a reality that no official authority or great individual had created. This mysterious fabric of text and actions had grown from the faith of the Church over the centuries. It bore the whole weight of history within itself, and yet, at the same time, it was much more than the product of human history. Every century had left its mark upon it. The introductory notes informed us about what came from the early Church, what from the Middle Ages, and what from modern times. Not everything was logical. Things sometimes got complicated, and it was not always easy to find one's way. But precisely this is what made the whole edifice wonderful, like one's own home.

It is precisely this organic development which gives, and continues to give the liturgy her unity, beauty, and depth. Liturgy is not something static, but ever slowly developing and shaping the Church. Likewise, Liturgy, properly understood, is not the product committee or community, but rather of centuries of tradition and development. By reading the same readings and by praying the same orations over centuries it bridges Catholics of the past and the present. This unity of prayer between Catholics over history is both a beautiful and fitting characteristic of our traditional liturgy. It is what marks us as truly “Catholic;” that is, universal. 

           Because of the principles outlined in SP and its accompanying letter, Tradition was no longer to be relegated to a few isolated chapels and banished from diocesean life. Instead, it could be a part of the heart of the Church’s worship. SP served to normalize tradition, welcoming it back into the mainstream of Catholic life. What the Church regarded as sacred and great was once again recognized as “sacred and great for us too.”

           Benedict also had the foresight to see how the Church’s youth would be attracted to what were her normative liturgical rites for over 500 years. He wrote in his letter accompanying SP: “It has clearly been demonstrated that young persons too have discovered this liturgical form, felt its attraction and found in it a form of encounter with the Mystery of the Most Holy Eucharist, particularly suited to them.” Here I hear the Pope speaking about young people like myself who, until encountering the traditional liturgy, experienced a great deal of difficulty participating in and praying the Holy Mass. I can say from my own experience that I find the older liturgical books to be more accessible and that they communicate to me more clearly, both verbally and non verbally, this Fons et apex (Source and Summit) of Christian life. I’m not claiming that every young person prefers the traditional rite, but from my own experience I have noticed that there is both greater interest in and greater tolerance for the traditional rite among the youth. Despite the prejudices of some septuagenarians, I am certain that, under God’s providence, this trove of liturgical treasures opened up by Summorum Pontificum will survive for generations to come.

References: 

Ratzinger, Joseph. Milestones: Memoirs: 1927-1977. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1998. 

Am I my Brother’s Keeper?

In the biblical account of creation, the Lord forms the world and all it possesses, appointing man over his creation with the single mandate to “be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28). Shortly thereafter, the first descendants of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, enter into a quarrel resulting in the death of Abel. As the Lord perused the world, He asked Cain, “where is Abel your brother” to which Cain replied, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” God’s response is not a binary yes or no, rather the Lord chose to respond, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground.” We are often confronted with the same question when considering intervening in another’s life: am I my brother’s keeper? Modern values would argue that individual autonomy is one of the highest regards of life. That we should rarely, if ever, intervene in another’s free will, even for their own sake. But we should consider God’s retort more thoroughly. God chose to reveal to Cain that there are higher responsibilities we owe to each other. While there is a clear distinction between murder and allowing someone to continue to engage destructive habits, we are also complicit in their results. In an eloquent manner, God confirmed, “yes, you are our brother’s keeper.”

There is a popular anecdote of when Margaret Mead, a famed 20th-century anthropologist, was asked when she thought civilization first began. Mead responded that civilization began with the first healing of a human femur; the first time a man was brought back from a death sentence, through the aid of his tribe, marked when man became less animal and more human. Mead’s response held with Rousseau’s concept of a society; the social contract that brings society into being is a pledge, and the society remains in existence as a pledged group. To live in a society is to pledge yourself to the aid of another. It is not simply living adjacent to each other, but also forfeiting yourself to them when in need. We are led by a ‘general social will’ to act for the benefit of our social good. Simply by living in this society, we pledge ourselves to it and its values, accepting to live by its customs and traditions. And since our society is one led by a Christian understanding of the world, we are under an even greater obligation to one another.

The prime example of Christian morality is, of course, Jesus Christ. Throughout his life, death, and resurrection, Christ provided not only for our salvation, but also the right example on how we ought to live. One of Christ’s most well-known teachings is certainly “the golden rule” —do unto others as you would have them do unto you– which mandates a baseline of obligation we have to each other. But other examples abound in which Christ taught us that we have a greater obligation to others than to ourselves. Examples such as the parable of the Good Samaritan in which the only good man was the one that stopped to help, the parable of the talents which symbolized that we are obligated to use our God-given gifts for His glory, and the supreme example of Christ being martyred for our sake. To live for others is the highest calling a Christian is subject to. Our school’s motto calls us to live as “men and women for others.” To live in a Christian society is to be obligated to help others. 

Our responsibility is easily enough argued, but the case becomes foggy when applied to specific circumstances. Yet the same principles endure; we have a responsibility to our fellow man throughout our lives. Even in cases where the recipient rejects aid, we are under the greatest commandment to give our every effort to them. Consider the case of suicide: no reasonable person would argue that, if possible, one should not step in to prevent another’s death, even when expressly denied. Thankfully, we still live in a society in which our mandate is clear. And so, the maxim to be our brother’s keeper obliges us to consider intervening when  a person is engaging in destructive habits such as drug abuse, extreme risk, or negligent behavior. Our responsibility is still the same if we truly live as if we love our neighbor. Our response should of course be measured and tactful to express our sincerity but leaving no room for excuse when we come before the throne of God and must answer for our actions.

So with this view in mind we must consider where we fall short in society. It becomes clear that we owe protection to the innocent and marginalized, those who have no advocate, and to the poor and displaced. At times, we must even give advice to our brothers who are falling short of their potential. We must also consider how we may help those who are unable to help themselves, such as those suffering from a drug addiction.  Lastly, with respect to politics, we must resist corrupt actors who harm our society’s moral and physical well-being. To live as men and women for others, we are obligated to denounce lies, for that is the root of harm, and to take action for the welfare of our society, even if it requires some sacrifice on our behalf. 

“And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40)

The Handmaid's Tale Has Arrived

To many Americans, the release of The Handmaid’s Tale on Hulu and the inauguration of President Trump in 2017 perfectly coincided. These Americans, mostly progressive college-educated white women, believed that the plot of the Hulu drama series, based on Margaret Atwood’s 1985 novel of the same name, perfectly resembled the potential dangers of a conservative presidency, which could eventually usher in a Protestant theonomy and patriarchal dystopia. 

These fears were exacerbated by Atwood and the series’ cast and producers, including Holy Cross alumna Ann Dowd ‘78, who has argued that the show’s dystopia “is happening” under Trump’s presidency, and that the United States is “a heck of a lot closer” now then when the series began production in 2016 [1]. These nonsensical fears are still parrotted by television hosts like Sunny Hostin who recently said that a hypothetical Trump/Haley ticket would somehow actualize The Handmaid’s Tale, members of Congress, and feminist activists nationwide who larp as handmaids in the quintessential red costume to protest various conservative causes [2].

While the American left is still neurotic over the potential actualization of a fictitious television series that is grounded in a fundamentally heterodox vision of Christian and conservative sexual ethics (there is no orthodox Christian denomination that supports sex slavery, polygamy, or the subjugation of women), there are still some reasons to think that a version of The Handmaid’s Tale has arrived, but not by the people or in the way that you would expect.

The world of The Handmaid’s Tale is contemporaneous with reality. In this fictional world, the United States has been violently overthrown by a fanatical religious sect that rearranges the social order in the newly formed Republic of Gilead. In this newly formed nation, which is mainly concerned with increasing the nation’s birth rate, new hierarchical social classes have been installed. The leaders of the regime are the commanders and their wives, who are mostly infertile women. They exercise dominance over the rest of the social classes, especially the handmaids. These handmaids, fertile women who have deviated from the norms of Gilead, are forcibly required to breed children for commanders and their wives. These children, the offspring of the commander and the handmaid, will never know their true mother, as she will be moved to a new home to be impregnated by another commander. 

The horror of this regime is obvious to every person; however, there is a similarly odious practice happening today in the United States using relatively similar methods– commercial surrogacy. Commercial surrogacy is the process by which a woman gestates and delivers another’s baby for a fee. The surrogate mother is merely a vessel for carrying and delivering the child, and after the birth she has no contact with the child. While there are some large differences between the handmaids and surrogate mothers, they are both viewed by the “true parents” as merely commercial and sexual vessels that are able to give them the greatest pleasure, a child that they mold. 

The surrogate mother, like the handmaid, carries the child in her womb for nine months where the child knows her voice, grows in her body, and is both physically and spiritually connected to her very being. She becomes the child’s mother, and her body and mind naturally operate as if the child is her own.

The legal parents of the child, the only parents that the child of surrogate mothers will ever know, believe that they are somehow the true parents of the child. They believe that this is their child, and that they are owed a child purely because of their desire for one. This is evident in the most important and horrific action in The Handmaid’s Tale: the ceremony, the ritualistic service in which the handmaid is raped. In this ceremony, the handmaid lies between the wives’ legs while the commander rapes her in order for the wife to believe that, in some deeper way, her husband is impregnating her rather than the handmaid surrogate. 

In our own world, the process is much more sanitized, but the result is the same. In one recent example posted on the Instagram page of Men Having Babies, an international nonprofit organization dedicated to helping gay men through the surrogacy process, a couple from San Diego commented that their new daughter, Donatella, was given that name as she was “given from heaven” to them [3]. However, that objectively is not true. Donatella was not given from heaven, but rather her prenatal development is purely a product of medical intervention. She was created because her legal parents, like the commanders and their wives, believed that they were owed a child through whatever means necessary, including renting a woman’s womb and using her to gestate and deliver a child that she will never know. Donatella is a product of their own means, desire, and will rather than a gift freely given to them from above.

So, the question still remains: why has a sanitized version of The Handmaid’s Tale been pushed onto society by the same people, progressive whites, who have for eight years incessantly moaned about the dangers of a similar regime? The answer, like in The Handmaid’s Tale, is a product of bad theology. 

While the ruling class in Gilead had a fundamentally heterodox vision of Christian morality and law, as they implemented a bizarre quasi-version of the judicial laws of the Mosaic law mixed with bad exegetical interpretations of Genesis, the progressive vision that blesses surrogacy engages in a similar theological undertaking. This theological view places the highest good in the universe not on an infinite and supreme personal God who properly orders every aspect of the universe, but rather it places the highest good on oneself and one’s desires. This hedonistic and egotistical theological view places one’s personal pleasure over the life and well-being of one’s legal children. 

The beneficiaries of surrogacy, those who buy the child, make the moral decision that their desires outweigh the good of the child. The surrogacy process almost immediately rips the child from the only mother that they ever know inflicting a primordial wound that will most likely never heal, commodifies reproduction and human life, and creates a society in which people are viewed as commercial and sexual vessels rather than individuals created for love [4]. The theological worldview that sanctions surrogacy as a positive good for society inherently devalues human life itself. The law, the primary moral teacher for a society, must correct this grave error by outlawing this practice. Ann Dowd ‘78 is right, we are more than “a heck of a lot closer” to The Handmaid’s Tale than ever before. We are currently living in our own hedonistic progressive Gilead, and we, like the handmaids, must make sure that is overthrown.

Endnotes 

[1] John Gage, “‘This is happening’: Producer and actress with ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ think show is turning into real life,” Washington Examiner, June 2, 2019, https://www.washingtonexaminer.com/news/1735228/this-is-happening-producer-and-actress-with-the-handmaids-tale-think-the-show-is-turning-into-real-life/.  

[2] Greta Bjornson, “Sunny Hostin Paints A Bleak Picture Of A Donald Trump and Nikki Haley Ticket on ‘The View,’” Decider, January 22, 2024, https://decider.com/2024/01/22/sunny-hostin-bleak-donald-trump-nikki-haley-ticket-the-view-handmaids-tale/.

[3]  Men Having Babies @menhavingbabies, “#throwback to November 2020…,” Instagram photo, December 28, 2023, https://www.instagram.com/p/C1ZiKnhMRoy/.

[4] Verrier, Nancy. The Primal Wound: Understanding the Adopted Child. Gateway Press, 2003.

A Farewell to Psalms: The Liturgical Reform and the Psalms of the Roman Rite

n.b this article refers to the Psalms as they are numbered in the Septuagint and Vulgate editions of the Bible.

“Great are you O Lord, and surpassingly worthy of praise” begins St. Augustine in his ever-resounding Confessions [1]. Augustine, however, does not really begin his Confessions because the words he uses are not his own, rather they are the words of the Psalmist: King David. He adapts Psalms 47:2, 95:4, and 144:3, changing them from third person to second person to address the Lord, and swapping the word “nimis” for “valde” (both roughly mean “surpassingly” or “greatly”). I first read the Confessions in my medieval philosophy class with Fr. Manoussakis. Before even opening the text we were taught Augustine’s threefold meaning of “Confession:” laudare (to praise), professio (profession of faith), and confession (of sins). Indeed, the Psalms, and other scripture verses, cohere throughout the entirety of the confessions; integrated into the whole of the work to achieve Augustine’s aim that “we can all declare, great is the Lord, and surpassingly worthy of praise” [2]. The traditional Latin Mass employs the Psalms in a similar way to St. Augustine: they cohere throughout Mass, bringing the voice of King David and the prayers of ancient Jewish temple worship into the Roman Missal of Pope St. Pius V, and  enriching the reverence and prayer of the Mass. The antiquity of their placement in the Mass is also of great value to tradition. In sum, the Psalms of the traditional Mass enhance the worship and richness of the Roman Rite while also directing us towards the sacrifice of the Mass.

Our word “Psalm” ultimately derives from the Greek Psalmos [ψαλμός] meaning “Music sung to the harp” [3]. The Hebrew word for “Psalm” is Tehillim which means “praises.” Through the singing or recitation of the Psalms, we offer God the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving which readily prepares us psychologically and spiritually to witness the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass at the Eucharist (Mass of the Faithful), where Christ is really and substantially present on the altar. Thus it is fitting that in the old rite, every Mass begins with a signing of the Cross and a Psalm. Before the principal Sunday Mass in the traditional rite, the antiphon is known as the Asperges, sung by the choir as the priest sprinkles the congregation with holy water. The Asperges antiphon comes from Psalms 50: 9 and 50: 3 and concludes with the glory be (gloria):  

Ps. 50: 9 Thou shalt sprinkle [Asperges] me with hyssop, and I shall be cleansed: thou shalt wash me, and I shall be made whiter than snow. 

Ps. 50: 3 Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy great mercy

℣ Glory be to Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit

℟ As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall world without end. Amen.  

Of particular charm is how the actions of the priest enact the content of the prayer, drawing a parallel between the sprinkling of holy water by the Priest and the sprinkling of hyssop in the Psalm. In the Eastertide, the Asperges is replaced with the vidi aquam and Psalm 50: 3 with Psalm 117. The Asperges ceremony has been handed down since at least the 900s A.D and grew out of customs which stretch back even further into antiquity [4]. Unfortunately, the rite of sprinkling and the Asperges are almost entirely absent from modern catholic liturgical life; even at Holy Cross, it is gone.

There is an inscription across the front of St. Joseph’s Chapel here at Holy Cross which reads “Introibo ad altare Dei ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam” (“I will go to the altar of God to the God that giveth joy to my youth”) It comes from verse 4 of Psalm 42 (Iudica me), the chief preparatory prayer in the old rite, verse 4 serves as the antiphon. The priest and his servers pray the entirety of Psalm 42 and the other preparatory prayers at the foot of the altar at the start of Mass. After Psalm 42, the Priest and his servers proceed to recite Psalm 123: 8: 

℣ Our help ✠ is in the name of the Lord 

℟ Who made heaven and earth

The prayers at the foot of the altar continue with the priest and servers reciting the Confiteor (“I confess”) and finally, after the priest absolves the server, they continue in the words of David. There is a dialogue between the priest and server using Psalms 84:7-8 and 101: 2 : 

℣ Ps. 84: 7 Thou wilt turn, O God, and bring us to life

℟ and Thy people shall rejoice in Thee

℣ Ps. 84: 8 shew us, O Lord, thy mercy

℟ and grant us thy salvation 

℣ Ps. 101: 2 Hear, O Lord, my prayer

℟ and let my cry come to thee

It's worth noting that this dialogue sequence also takes place after the Asperges. Taken together, there are nine unique Psalm verses in the prayers at the foot of the altar. These prayers found in the traditional Latin Mass today have been there since the 15th century [5], while some form of preparatory prayer itself has existed since at least the 12th century [6]. I find these prayers rather humbling; it's an earnest way to begin Mass and the Psalms lead us to take more seriously the sense of the sacred. In the creation of the new Mass, the reformers totally expunged the preparatory prayers. The liturgy now starts without this careful, delicate, and natural preparation.

The Psalms have also fallen victim to what has been often referred to as the new Mass’s liturgical “deregulation.” The changes to the introit, or “entrance chant” as the new rite calls it, demonstrates this deregulation. In the old rite, the introit was composed of two scripture verses, usually Psalm verses. At a Low Mass, The priest recites it on the right side of the altar (epistle side) after the prayers at the foot of the altar. At a High Mass, the choir would chant the introit as the priest and servers recited the prayers at the foot of the altar. It is Psalms galore! After ascending the altar, the priest would then recite the introit to himself. The Psalms and scripture verses for each day were chosen deliberately with great care over the centuries in the Church; the idea of reciting or chanting anything else was, and is, almost unfathomable. Now, however, The General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM) allows this “entrance chant” (functionally equivalent to the traditional Mass’s introit) to be taken from one of four options (GIRM, 47-48). The more traditional choice among the options is to chant the day’s antiphon or the antiphon with its Psalm from the Graduale Romanum. The next option is to chant the antiphon and Psalm for the liturgical time. Option three allows singing any Psalm (this can be arranged in the responsorial or metrical style). Option four allows for “another liturgical chant that is suited to the sacred action, the day, or the time of year, similarly approved by the Conference of Bishops or the Diocesan Bishop.” Although three out of the four options employ Psalms, by far the most common choice is option four which allows a slew of modern music. If you walk into a church today, the chanting of a Psalm as the entrance chant is no guarantee; there’s an even slimmer chance that it would be in Latin. The new Mass’s innovative use of options has allowed for the Psalms to be easily expelled from the entrance chant/introit. Even worse, it favors individual taste (of say the music director or parish priest) over the sound, consistent, and sacred liturgical fixes that are guaranteed in the traditional rite. Other parts of the Mass such as the Offertory Antiphon and the Communion Verse have also fallen victim to liturgical deregulation, so often these propers which were replete with Psalms are replaced with a hymn.

The replacement of the gradual verses with the responsorial Psalm was another great blow to the received tradition of the Roman Rite. In the traditional rite, the choir sang the two prescribed Psalm verses in the gradual between the Epistle and the Gospel. This short and sweet part of the Mass gave way to a rich musical tradition. The reformers of the Mass made the more participatory “responsorial Psalm” the default manner of singing the psalms between readings. The ultimate origin of the gradual lies in pre-Christian Jewish services and it is believed the earliest Christians would have recited the whole Psalm rather than just two verses [7]. The Gregorian Sacramentary, which dates to about the 10th century, refers to these Psalms as the “graduale” (it is named as such because it was recited by the Deacon on the steps, which in Latin is gradus, of the sanctuary). At some point in the first millennium, the singing of the whole Psalm verse was reduced to two and it remained this way until 1969. Presently, there is no historical evidence for the existence of the modern responsorial Psalm in the ancient Roman liturgy (although responsory style Psalms did exist in other Western liturgies); its insertion into the liturgy was largely motivated by the desire of the reformers to force the participation of the laity; it was not authentic organic development. In order to allow the laity the ease of participation in the responsorial Psalm, the music of the traditional gradual was replaced by the simplified and vernacularized music for the responsorial Psalm. It should be noted that the latest edition of the Roman Gradual was published in 1974 which provides gradual verses that can replace the responsorial psalm [8]; this, however, is seldom done. The likelihood of hearing Gregorian chant in a Catholic parish church today is low, very low.  

The offertory marks the start of the Mass of the Faithful, now called the liturgy of the Eucharist. The traditional rite houses two Psalms in the offertory. The first is Psalm 140: 2-4 which is recited during the incensing of the altar at High Mass. Rather fittingly the Psalms reads “Let my prayer be directed as incense in thy sight; the lifting up of my hands, as evening sacrifice.” The second Psalm, called the lavabo, is said by the priest as he washes his hands after offering the chalice. St. Cyril of Jerusalem explains “The washing of hands is a symbol that you ought to be pure from all sinful and unlawful deeds” [9]. For the washing of the hands, the traditional rite prescribes Psalm 25: 6-12 which is given in English here:

6 I will wash [Lavabo] my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord: 7 That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works. 8 I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth. 9 Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men: 10 In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts. 11 But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me. 12 My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord. (Ps. 25: 6-12) 

The use of these six Psalm verses dates back to probably around the 13th century. They are a notable aspect of the received tradition of the Roman Rite. The voice of the Psalmist, however, has been truncated in the new rite. Instead of Psalm 25: 6-12, the priest prays Psalm 50: 4, in English, “Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.”

The priest’s communion Psalms also went missing in the new rite of Mass. After he receives Holy Communion, the priest quietly says the words of Psalm 115: 3-4 and finishes with verse 4 of Psalm 17 “ What shall I render to the Lord, for all the things that he hath rendered to me? I will take the chalice of salvation; and I will call upon the name of the Lord.  Praising I will call upon the Lord: and I shall be saved from my enemies.” I can not help but perceive beauty in the fact that the priest recites these Psalms at this intimate moment in the Mass. The new rite of Mass replaces these psalm verses with these words “May the Body of Christ keep me safe for everlasting life. [here he takes the chalice of blood] May the Blood of Christ keep me safe for everlasting life.” The Psalms have been removed from the communion of the priest

That is the story of the Psalms in the liturgical reform following the Second Vatican Council. The central question we have to answer is why the Psalms in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass matter. I explained earlier that the chanting and recitation of the Psalms were integral to the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, especially during the Mass of the Catechumens (Liturgy of the Word). But more importantly, the Mass is the sacrifice at Calvary made present; therefore, it is fitting that the Psalms be present and quoted a great number of times throughout the Mass. By quoting the Psalms at the sacrifice of the Mass, the priest does as Christ did; he quotes the Psalms during Mass because Christ quotes the Psalms at Calvary (Ps. 21: 1, see Matthew 27: 46 & Mark 15: 34) (Ps. 30: 6, see Luke 23: 46). The Psalms further emphasize the true sacrificial nature of the Mass as the same sacrifice of our Lord on that same cross for which our school is named. The Psalms should never be viewed as something superfluous, but rather as something integral to our Roman Rite. Thus I conclude that the liturgical reform’s removal of the Psalms from the Mass constitutes a tragedy.

Endnotes

[1] St. Augustine, Confessions Books 1-8, trans. Carolyn J.-B Hammond (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014), 3.

[2] St. Augustine, Confessions Books 9-13, trans. Carolyn J.-B Hammond (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014), 191.

[3] “ψαλμός.” Wiktionary. Wikimedia Foundation, accessed 10 October 2023. https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ψαλμός#Ancient_Greek.

[4] “Asperges.” The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. 1. (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1907)  https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/asperges.

[5] Peter, Kwasniewski. “The Prayers at the Foot of the Altar and the Last Gospel: A Case-Study in Pius V’s Conservatism,” New Liturgical Movement, 23 August 2021. https://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2021/08/the-prayers-at-foot-of-altar-and-last.html .

[6] Adrian, Fortescue. The Mass: A Study Of The Roman Liturgy (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1922) 225.

[7] Adrian, Fortescue. The Mass: A Study Of The Roman Liturgy (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1922) 266-267.

[8] Jeff, Ostrowski. “Eight (8) Responsorial Psalm Options • On turning Missalettes into little “gods,”” Corpus Christi Watershed, 30 September 2023. https://www.ccwatershed.org/2023/09/30/eight-valid-options-responsorial-psalm-on-turning-the-missalette-into-a-little-god/.

[9] Philip, Kosloski. “Why do priests wash their hands during Mass?” Aleteia, 10 July 2021.  https://aleteia.org/2021/07/10/why-do-priests-wash-their-hands-during-mass/.

Bibliography

“Asperges.” The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. 1. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1907.  https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/asperges 

Fortescue, Adrian. The Mass: A Study Of The Roman Liturgy. London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1922. 

General Instruction of the Roman Missal. International Commission on English in the Liturgy Corporation, 2010. 

Kosloski, Philip. “Why do priests wash their hands during Mass?” Aleteia, 10 July 2021, accessed 10 October 2023. https://aleteia.org/2021/07/10/why-do-priests-wash-their-hands-during-mass/

Kwasniewski, Peter. “The Prayers at the Foot of the Altar and the Last Gospel: A Case-Study in Pius V’s Conservatism.” New Liturgical Movement, 23 August 2021, accessed: 10 October 2023.https://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2021/08/the-prayers-at-foot-of-altar-and-last.html

Ostrowski, Jeff. “Eight (8) Responsorial Psalm Options • On turning Missalettes into little “gods”” Corpus Christi Watershed, 30 September 2023, accessed 10 October 2023. https://www.ccwatershed.org/2023/09/30/eight-valid-options-responsorial-psalm-on-turning-the-missalette-into-a-little-god/

St. Augustine. Confessions Books 1-8. Translated by Carolyn J.-B Hammond. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014.

St. Augustine. Confessions Books 9-13. Translated by Carolyn J.-B Hammond. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014.

“ψαλμός.” Wiktionary. Wikimedia Foundation, accessed 10 October 2023. https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ψαλμός#Ancient_Greek


Sources Consulted

Davies, Michael. A Short History of the Roman Mass. Tan Books, 1997.

“Gradual.” The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. 6. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1909. https://www.catholic.com/encyclopedia/gradual

Lasance, Rev. F.X, and Rev. Francis Augustine Walsh, O.S.B. The New Roman Missal - Father Lasance. Christian Book Club of America, 1945. 

Reid, Alcuin. The Organic Development of the Liturgy. Farnborough: St. Michael’s Abbey Press, 2004.


Book Review: The Organic Development of the Liturgy

For those who do not consider themselves liturgy geeks, I will start by defining some terms. The term ‘Liturgy’ refers to the official public services of the Church. This encompasses the Mass, the Breviary, and the seven sacraments. A ‘rite’ refers to an ecclesiastical tradition in which the Liturgy is celebrated, that is, the form and content of the Liturgy, specific to a geographic location or particular Church. In short, a rite refers to a Liturgical Tradition. There are many rites of the Church, one of which is the Latin rite, which houses the Roman Rite. The book in review, The Organic Development of the Liturgy by Dom Alcuin Reid O.S.B., examines the history of the Roman Rite from antiquity to the eve of the Second Vatican Council and its underlying developmental principles, the most important of which he calls “the principle of organic development.” Through this examination, Reid establishes the principle of organic development as a universally adhered-to principle and as both implicitly and explicitly authoritative by the Tradition it upholds. In this book review, I hope to explicate Reid’s scholarship to a larger audience.

The book’s preface was written by then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (who later became Pope Benedict XVI). It is a remarkable reflection on Reid’s book, emphasizing both its importance in modern liturgical scholarship as well as highlighting how Reid’s scholarship acts as a twofold rejection of two prominent, and dangerous, liturgical positions: one which would seek constant reform that divorces itself from the liturgical Tradition and one which would reject any liturgical reform or renewal entirely. Both, as you will see when reading Reid’s book, are antithetical to the principles of Catholic liturgical development. Ratzinger also touches on the subject of authority, something Reid later expounds upon. Given how well-written it is, even if you don't read the rest of the book, I urge everyone to read Ratzinger’s preface. 

In regard to the book’s format, it consists of three chapters which are further divided into sub-topics which are usually ordered chronologically. The first chapter covers the history of the Roman Rite and the various reforms, some of which were short-lived and others of which became part of the immemorial rite, from antiquity until the late nineteenth century. In chapter two, Reid recounts the birth of the Liturgical Movement and the liturgical reforms until 1948, this chapter covers a period of approximately 50 years. Chapter three, the longest chapter, focuses on the liturgical reforms between 1948 and 1962 and the Liturgical Movement at this time. 

Chapter one elucidates how the Church has always understood herself as having an objective liturgical Tradition that is capable of development. It is clear, from Reid’s recounting of early liturgical history, in late antiquity and the early middle ages the bare bones of the Roman Rite were born, something capable of development, but a Tradition nonetheless, that is, something handed down. Importantly when covering the Tridentine reforms, Reid emphasizes how they were utterly Traditional and were initiated to ensure doctrinal orthodoxy and to correct liturgical abuse. Reid establishes that there is a clear continuity between the Gregorian Sacramentary and other early liturgical books and the Tridentine reforms. Chapter one, though the shortest of all the chapters, is significant because it establishes the understanding of the organic development principle present in the Church and demonstrates how due reverence was always shown towards liturgical Tradition during reforms. Reform was never arbitrary, and always utterly traditional. 

Chapters two and three profile a variety of people either in the Liturgical Movement or related to the Liturgical Movement including Pope St. Pius X, Lambert Beauduin, Pius Parsch, Romano Guardini, Josef Jungmann S.J., and others as well as covering numerous liturgical conferences, most of which occurred in the 1950s. Chiefly, Reid seeks to clarify the origins and purpose of the Liturgical Movement. He asserts, rightfully, that the Movement’s foundational goal was to increase liturgical piety among the laity, that is, to make praying the Liturgy a part of their lives. Through his examination of the Movement’s early members and their writings, Reid rebukes the notion that ritual reform, total vernacularization of the Mass, or changes to the rite itself were the aims of the Liturgical Movement. When covering the reforms of the 1950s, Reid judges the various reforms by the standard of the principle of organic development including the 1955 Holy Week reforms, 1955 rubric simplifications, and other reforms of the Pian Commission. Ultimately, Reid examines these reforms and the principles operative during this period. He strongly rebukes principles such as antiquarianism, which was also rejected as a principle for liturgical reform by Pius XII’s Mediator Dei

In the preface, Ratzinger writes “The pope is not an absolute monarch whose will is law; rather, he is the guardian of the authentic Tradition…That is why, with respect to Liturgy, he has the task of a gardener, not that of a technician who builds new machines and throws the old ones on the junk-pile” (pp.10-11). Reid notes that the breviary reforms of Pope St. Pius X mark the start of a new era; one marked by an excessive use of papal power with regards to the Church’s liturgy. While admitting that the pastorally motivated rearrangement of the breviary respected the Church’s liturgical Tradition and did not constitute an innovation or novelty, Reid posits this action as the beginning of the ultramontane view of authority over the Liturgy. Pius XII’s encyclical Mediator Dei would likewise double down on this view of papal authority of the Liturgy. In Reid's opinion, such liberal use of papal authority over Liturgy should be warned against, and such a view of papal authority over liturgical matters was not seen in the Church prior to the 20th century. 

Chiefy, Reid’s work demonstrates that liturgical archaeologism, or antiquarianism, and pastoral expediency are not sufficient principles of liturgical reform and fail to respect the organic development of the Liturgy. When Tradition is not given its due reverence and reforms are done hastily, violence is done to the objective liturgical Tradition that has developed in the Church for over a millennium. 

I think it was fitting for Reid to end his book just on the eve of Vatican Council II. He concludes by writing “The task of a thorough assessment of whether this law [the law of organic development] was respected in the reforms enacted following the Second Vatican Council and of whether it is respected by proponents of ‘the organic progression of the Liturgy’ remains. Such an assessment cannot but be based upon this law, reflecting the truth that ‘liturgies are not made, they grow in the devotion of the centuries’” (p.311). It has been nearly 60 years since the conclusion of the Council and it is up to us to examine the liturgical legacy of Vatican II. This book offers a solid foundation of knowledge to begin such tasks and Reid’s scholarship is sine qua non for research into Catholic liturgical studies. 

Bibliography 

Reid, Alcuin. The Organic Development of the Liturgy. Farnborough: St. Michael’s Abbey Press, 2004. 


Webpage image sourced from: https://fraternitypublications.com/product/the-organic-development-of-the-liturgy/

Comparing Collects: The Feast Day of St. Pius V

In the traditional rite, when the feast day of pope St. Pius V is celebrated on May 5th you will hear the priest pray, in Latin, the collect for the day. The collect is a prayer appointed to each day’s Mass and follows either the Gloria or the Kyrie. The prayer for this feast day in particular underwent much revision during the liturgical reform of the 1960s leading to an essentially new collect. The new collect is now said in the vernacular whenever this feast day arrives. This change offers a glimpse into the liturgical reform as a whole. Therefore, I wish to compare the collect of the old rite to that of the new rite and see what these differences might communicate to us about our faith. 

One might rightly wonder why the collect changed at all. Well, Matthew Hazell, a Catholic liturgical scholar and contributor to the blog, New Liturgical Movement, writes in his article “All the Elements of the Roman Rite”? Mythbusting, Part II” that  “a mere 13% (165) of the 1,273 prayers of the usus antiquior [1962 Missal/traditional Latin Mass] found their way unchanged into the reformed Missal of Paul VI [1970 Missal/new Mass].” That is to say, it is not unusual for an oration (prayer) to have either been omitted, centonised, or edited in preparation for the New Missal following Vatican II. 

To begin, it's important to note the specific contents of each collect. The traditional collect reads, according to this English translation of the 1962 Missale Romanum

God, Who didst vouchsafe to choose blessed Pius Thy chief bishop for the crushing of the enemies of Thy Church and the restoration of divine worship, make us to be defended by his watchful care and so to adhere to Thy service that, all the contrivances of our enemies being overcome, we may rejoice in everlasting peace. Through our Lord Jesus Christ…

The line “Crushing of the enemies of Thy Church” likely refers to his time as an inquisitor of the faith where he helped to combat and suppress heresy and defend doctrinal orthodoxy from dissent during the religiously tumultuous 16th century Europe. It likely also refers to how, during his papacy, St. Pius V formed the Holy League to combat Ottoman expansion into Europe. The Ottomans were eventually pushed back at the Battle of Lepanto, prior to which Pius V had encouraged all of the Church’s faithful to pray the Rosary for victory. Although the collect might initially come off as bellicose, towards the end, the prayer makes clear that it is a petition for “everlasting peace.” The reference to “the restoration of divine worship” refers to St. Pius V’s restoration and renewal of Rome’s liturgical books following the Council of Trent. The prayer recognizes the importance and success of the Tridentine liturgical reforms. 

Some might object that prayers that celebrate “crushing of the enemies of Thy Church” run contrary to the gospel, especially Matthew 5: 44 where Christ tells us to “Love your enemies.” But in the Catholic Tradition, love does not exclude punishment or defense; love (dilectio, imperative: diligite) is not synonymous with support or indifference. When we are thankful for St. Pius V’s “crushing of the enemies of Thy Church” it is with the understanding that this was not malicious or evil. “Love your enemies” compels us neither to force our loved ones to suffer at the hand of the enemy nor to abandon the city of God. It compels us neither to surrender Constantinople to the armies of Ottomans nor Europe to fascistic despots in the 1940s. Remember also the means by which Pope St. Pius V crushed his enemies. He crushed them through steadfast adherence to Catholic orthodoxy, through praying the rosary, and through his saintly Petrine ministry, all of which aimed toward peace. Therefore, I view the collect as both morally and liturgically sound.

The New Missal replaces the old prayer with a new shorter one. The 1970 Missale Romanum collect for the feast day of Pope St. Pius V reads as follows: 

O God, who in your providence raised up Pope Saint Pius the Fifth in your Church that the faith might be safeguarded and more fitting worship be offered to you, grant, through his intercession, that we may participate in your mysteries with lively faith and fruitful charity. Through our Lord Jesus Christ…

The new collect expunges the words “crushing enemies of the Church” and replaces it with “that the faith might be safeguarded.” In short, it sanitizes the original language. One difference in the new collect that I find preferable to the old is the explicit mention of providence when it reads “who in your providence raised up Pope Saint Pius the Fifth.” This enriches the prayer because it explicitly attributes the papacy of St. Pius V to God’s providence, and in doing so reminds us of God’s providence and presence in the world. I think it is especially important for modern people to be reminded of divine providence so its inclusion in the collect constitutes an improvement. The reference to St. Pius V’s liturgical reform is described as “more fitting worship” as opposed to “the restoration of divine worship.” I find the change in language to be unnecessary but not necessarily bad in and of itself. It certainly does not emphasize the importance of Pius V’s liturgical reforms as much as the old collect does. 

I recognize that while both these prayers differ in their language, they maintain the same basic petitions to God: to defend the faith and to cultivate worship. The new prayer makes some laudable improvements (e.g. mentioning God’s providence) and the shift in tone might make its reception easier for a modern man or woman. However, there is still the fundamental question of whether our liturgy should be changed to conform to the sensibilities of man or whether man should conform his sensibilities to that of the Catholic faith as expressed in the Church’s liturgy. As for Catholics today, I think it's important that we embrace the fullness of the Church’s prayer and teaching, not just the ones that appease our modern sensibilities, and the Traditional liturgy, in its prayer, aids in this. I welcome disagreement and discussion; however, I think it's imprudent to conform the Church and her prayers to each era’s sensibilities rather than letting the Church’s Tradition and Liturgy stand in all ages. 

Official Latin versions of the prayers: 

(1962 Missale Romanum):  Deus, qui ad conterendos Ecclesiæ tuæ hostes, et ad divinum cultum reparandum, beatum Pium Pontificem maximum eligere dignatus es: fac nos ipsius defendi præsidiis, et ita tuis inhærere obsequiis: ut omnium hostium superatis insidiis, perpetua pace lætemur. Per Dominum.

(1970 Missale Romanum): Deus, qui in ecclesia tua beatum Pium papam ad fidem tuendam ac te dignius colendum providus excitasti, da nobis, ipso intercedente, vivida fide ac fructuosa caritate mysterium tuorum esse participes. Per Dominum.

The Unraveling of Catholic Marriage

For better or for worse, dating and marriage in the United States has been transformed since the early twentieth century, especially from the sixties onward. Statistically speaking, 46 percent of marriages ended in divorce just this past year. Many scholars say this trend is indicative of a shift in the cultural meaning of marriage. Whereas Americans once experienced it in institutional terms, as a business or contractual partnership, marriage has become more personal – a status acquired to achieve romantic and familial happiness. Gone are the days when love, even elementary affection, were considered secondary and frivolous aspects of a union. While this is certainly a good thing, modernity has made the search for unadulterated love is an uphill battle. 

 

Although it is debated whether the regression of the institution of marriage is positive or negative, we can consider the high rate of divorce and evaluate the moral consequences of its deconstruction from a Christian standpoint. People desirous of ending their marriages, for whatever reasons, may be subject to disapproval among their religious community. In particular, the Catholic faith does not promote divorce or casually condone the dissolution of a marriage.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church affirms that “Divorce is a grave offense against the natural law. It claims to break the contract, to which the spouses freely consented, to live with each other till death. Divorce does injury to the covenant of salvation, of which sacramental marriage is the sign. Contracting a new union, even if it is recognized by civil law, adds to the gravity of the rupture: the remarried spouse is then in a situation of public and permanent adultery” (CCC 2384). The Catechism continues, calling divorce a “plague on society.” 

Although the Catechism’s remarks are very interesting on a philosophical level, the points lengthily discussed feel detached, failing to point out specific, firsthand experiences of many Catholic families. I propose a shift in focus away from rigid moral mentality and towards a more general focus on clemency and grace. Among severe polarization in society, especially in terms of politics and spirituality, the Catholic Church should send a message of mercy as an invitation for Catholics to adopt an attitude of compassion towards those with differing circumstances. 

As such, I believe that divorce can occasionally have a moral place in modernity. Here’s a true anecdote as a means to provide further contemplation. A close family friend – let’s call her Brielle – got married at age thirty-two. The man professed to be religious and supportive of her family and career goals but eventually turned out to be deceptive, dipsomaniac, and abusive. Brielle is currently going through an agonizing divorce. She and her two children are suffering emotionally, financially, and spiritually during this difficult time, even though divorce seems to be the best and morally decent option for their ultimate well-being and physical safety. 

Brielle is not alone. Although Catholics experience divorce less than non-religious people, they still see it in their lives and families. Almost everyone reading this article has been impacted by divorce, either personally or indirectly through a loved one. In fact, a quarter of Catholic adults had a divorce, and nine percent remarried. And according to Georgetown University’s Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate, Catholic marriages have declined approximately sixty-nine percent over the last fifty years, despite the Catholic population growing to twenty-one million in 2022. Therefore, it is beyond question that the sacrament of holy matrimony is in freefall. 

It is most certain that the Catholic Church could prevent the regression of Catholic marriage, at least in some part. The premarital counseling offered by the Faith, known as Pre-Cana, is woefully deficient. At least in Brielle’s case, there was no discussion of the warning signs of domestic abuse, many of which existed before her marriage. Further, there was no discussion of what would make a marriage valid or invalid. In fact, her Pre-Cana experience was centered around comically irrelevant and uselessly abstract lessons. Granted, when an engaged and in love couple prepares for their forthcoming marriage, they are not considering what makes their marriage viable for annulment. However, many things can occur during a marriage that may never be anticipated. For instance, now that Brielle is preparing for a divorce and eventual annulment, she has a much clearer understanding of the Catholic definition of marriage than she ever did as part of her marital preparation with her parish priest. That is to say that not all Catholic premarital counseling is identical to Brielle’s experience, but I believe there must be a consistent and comprehensive curriculum. Every Catholic diocese should think about how they can be a part of the effort to reduce divorce by discussing impediments to marriage success.  

All in all, Catholics are called to a higher standard of marriage than members of secular culture. Tertullian, the Father of Latin Theology, wrote it best: “How beautiful is the marriage of two Christians, two who are one in hope, one in desire, one in the way of life they follow, one in the religion they practice… Nothing divides them, either in flesh or spirit… Side by side they visit God’s Church and partake of God’s Banquet; side by side they face difficulties and persecution, share their consolations… To such as these He gives His peace.” It is only within marriage that sexual love and formalized commitment can contribute to the divine goodness of the couple, the eventual formation of a family unit, and the common good. We must rejoice in this fact and embrace Jesus’ insistence on the beatific elevation and sanctity of holy matrimony. 

Nevertheless, while the Church’s unbroken teaching on marriage protects the family and the order of creation, it is necessary to consider the various extenuating circumstances that may lead to divorce. Overt violence and parental psychopathology can crumble a family unit and be pervasively disastrous to both the couple and their children. When a marriage is destroyed by abuse, addiction, and psychological wounds, even the supposed lifeblood of humanity – that is, the healing attributes of matrimony – can lead to a pervasively toxic conjugal union. 

Therefore, the Catholic Church has a special obligation to teach and defend these often unfamiliar and rejected truths about the intricacy of marriage. What’s more, they must do their best to identify potentially harmful warning signs and prevent unsuited unions in the first place. As Catholics, we each have a distinct responsibility to combat the broader cultural crisis of dating and adopt a more traditional and intentional approach towards dating and marriage, so we can love more fully and completely. Our God is a God of relationship. Therefore, it is essential that the Church prepares young people for marriage success and educates them on how to live the faith through marital union. As Saint John Paul II once expressed, “the person who does not decide to love forever will find it very difficult to really love for even one day.” This profound affirmation holds especially true in today’s increasingly complex dating and marriage landscape.

A Tribute to Pope Benedict XVI

Disclaimer: An earlier version of this article incorrectly attributed one of Pope Benedict’s quotes to his book ‘The Spirit of the Liturgy,’ however this quote actually originated from his book ‘God and the World: a Conversation with Peter Seewald.’ This article has been updated to reflect this correction.

On December 31st, 2022, at the age of 95, Joseph Ratzinger, better known to the world as pope Benedict XVI, and later as Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, reached the last hour of his earthly life. Letting out his last breath, he reportedly said the words “Signore, ti amo” (“Lord, I love you”) before passing into eternal life with the Father. Like any man occupying the heights of power, he was not without controversy. He was loved by many and hated by many others. Still, in light of this, I view his life worthy of remembrance and recognition.

Prior to ascending to the papacy, Ratzinger had made a name for himself as an ardent defender of Catholic orthodoxy. Weathering the tempest in the Catholic Church in the late 20th century, Ratzinger had served as prefect for the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith (CDF) between 1982 and 2005. He defended the faith by reaffirming Church teachings in numerous declarations and documents. During his tenure as prefect, Pope St. John Paul II selected Ratzinger to oversee the formation of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. This great corpus helps to articulate the orthodox Catholic faith in concrete terms for everyone to understand.   

He was more than a theologian though; he was also a pastor who sought to make God’s love evident to everyone. In one of his first homilies as pope, Benedict proclaimed without hesitation, “Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary.” His first encyclical, Deus Caritas Est (God is Love), expounded the Christian notion of love and showed how the Church can be an instrument of God’s love in the world through charity. In his second encyclical, Caritas in Veritate (Charity in Truth), which touched on contemporary social issues, Benedict reiterated that God’s love must be paired with God’s Truth. He wrote in the encyclical’s introduction “To defend the truth, to articulate it with humility and conviction, and to bear witness to it in life are therefore exacting and indispensable forms of charity.” For Benedict, defending Truth was showing love. 

Benedict’s life was also deeply liturgical. Somewhat paradoxically, he was born on Holy Saturday, the day we Catholics commemorate Christ dead in the tomb, and he died during the Christmas season, while we celebrate the birth of Christ. He sought to bring the beauty of the Church’s liturgy to everyone. As pope, his Apostolic Letter Summorum Pontificum declared that all priests of the Latin Rite had the right to say the Traditional Latin Mass, according to the 1962 missal of pope John XXIII, which he declared had never been abrogated. In his book God and the World: A Conversation with Peter Seewald he lamented that “Anyone who nowadays advocates the continuing existence of this liturgy [the Traditional Mass] or takes part in it is treated like a leper; all tolerance ends here.” Benedict simply wanted to let those who loved the old liturgy know that they had a place in the Church. 

I think it appropriate that the Holy Cross community remembers Benedict XVI as a fellow crusader. For what was he if not a crusader for truth and love? The life, writings, and deeds of Pope Benedict give witness to the incarnation and the love God gave the world through his Son, Jesus Christ.