The Barbarians Have Taken Over

Part II

Michael Davies

BEFORE EXAMINING legislation concerning the siting of the tabernacle which has appeared since the Second Vatican Council, it will be useful to examine the subject within the context of Tradition. Furthermore, the question of the siting of the tabernacle cannot be considered in isolation from that of Mass facing the people. It is often argued that as Mass must now be celebrated facing the people, the tabernacle must be removed from the altar. The necessity for a celebration facing the people, versus populum, will be considered first. This subject, and that of the tabernacle, are dealt with in considerable detail in my book Pope Paul's New Mass, and full documentation is provided there for every claim made in this article, in which I will do no more than state the facts as simply as possible, and refer those wanting more detail to my book.¹

Mass Facing the People—Historical Fact or Fantasy?

The barbarians, the despisers of culture, who are responsible for the frenzy of destruction which has devastated the sanctuary of almost every Catholic Church in the West, often attempt to justify their vandalism on the grounds that the practice has been mandated by the Second Vatican Council, and constitutes a return to the custom of the primitive Church. Both these allegations are nonsensical, but we will begin our examination with the second.

Those who claim that Mass has been celebrated facing the people as an act of conscious pastoral policy at any period in the history of the Church, prior to Vatican II, are influenced not by fact but by fantasy. Their understanding of the nature of the Mass is usually as defective as their knowledge of liturgical history. They tend to believe that the essence of the Mass is found in the coming together of the local community. The Mass, for them, is the assembly of the faithful over which the ordained priest does no more than preside. Although they would not say so explicitly, in most cases they envisage this gathering as a mutual glorification society. It is an assembly consecrated to the glory of man. Priest and people smirk at each other over the table; they exchange glances of mutual self-admiration; they are pleased with what they see.

This concept of the Mass is totally heretical, totally Protestant. The Mass, in its most profound reality, is the making present among us of the Sacrifice of Calvary. God the Son is made present upon the altar as a sacrificial victim to be offered to the Blessed Trinity by and for the Church, and the Church offers herself together with Jesus Christ, Who is her head. Our Lord is the true High Priest of every Mass, as well as the Divine Victim. He won the grace necessary for our salvation upon the Cross and He mediates that grace to us through the Mass.

A sacrifice is offered upon an altar, and before Vatican II there was no doubt that the focal point in every Catholic church was an unmistakable altar of sacrifice. Nicholas Ridley, the Protestant Bishop of London, stated no more than the truth when he declared in 1550 that the purpose of an altar was to offer a sacrifice, while the purpose of a table was to serve a meal.² Because the Anglican sect repudiated the Catholic concept of the Eucharistic Sacrifice, it quite logically replaced altars with tables. How amused Ridley would be today to see that almost every priest in the West has either destroyed his altar or abandoned it in favor of a squalid table. "Do these priests believe in sacrifice?" he would ask. I fear that in many cases the answer would have to be "No."

Liturgical History—A Neglected Science

A few years ago I was invited to a discussion with the Cardinal Prefect of an important Roman Congregation, a man of unimpeachable orthodoxy. He had a mastery of theology which could not be faulted and it was a privilege and an inspiration to listen to him. But then our discussion turned to the liturgy and, as the minutes passed, I discovered with growing incredulity that I knew more about liturgical history than he did. Some readers may consider me guilty of scarcely credible pride and arrogance for making this claim, but it is absolutely true. In order to prove my point I will mention that he thought traditionalists were making far too much fuss about the position of the altar. "The Mass is the Mass," he said, "whatever the direction the priest faces when he offers it." This, of course, is true. "In any case," he added, "Mass always used to be celebrated facing the people, look at the altar in St. Peter's."

I deemed it prudent not to contradict him, and nodded my head in a non-committal way. Some weeks later I wrote him a tactful letter outlining the facts which I shall be presenting in this article. But first, I had better explain the reason why not simply this cardinal, but so many Catholic priests have such a limited knowledge of liturgical history.

The pre-conciliar seminaries gave excellent courses in the theology of the Mass and the rubrics of the Mass and the priests who emerged from them knew what the Mass was and how to celebrate it. Sadly, they often had only a very superficial knowledge of its history. They followed the rubrics because they were the rubrics, often without knowing how particular rubrics had developed. Then, when the rubrics were changed after Vatican II, they followed the new rubrics just as they had followed the old. When they were told to celebrate Mass facing the people, or saw most other priests celebrate Mass facing the people, they simply followed suit. Many were convinced that they had, somehow, been discourteous to their congregations by "turning their backs to them." We are often told today that it is a great blessing that the priest no longer celebrates Mass with his back to the congregation.

Why, then, did the priest say Mass in this way before the Second Vatican Council?

Orientation

The traditional manner of celebrating Mass did not involve any question of facing the people or not facing the people. It lay in the almost universal practice of "orientation" for worship. Orientation today has taken on the meaning of to face in a particular direction, any direction. It originated with a word meaning the east—Orient. The word is derived from the Latin verb oriri, to rise; and because the sun rises in the East, the direction took its name from the action.

If a Christian is asked to name the most important event in the history of the world he should reply without hesitation: "The Resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ.'' Truly, if Christ had not risen our faith would be in vain. From the very beginning of the Church, Christians looked upon the rising sun as a symbol of the Son of God rising from the dead. They offered Mass facing the East throughout centuries of persecution, and, when they were allowed to build churches, almost always did so with the apse containing the altar at the East end. The medieval churches and cathedrals of England are perhaps her greatest glory. Their towers and spires rise up over the greatest cities and smallest villages, a reminder of an epoch when religion was the predominating force in society, and life on earth was truly looked upon as a preparation for the life to come. Although, alas, the Mass has been banished from those churches since the reformation, each morning the first rays of the rising sun bring to life images in the stained glass of the windows at the East end of the church, above the altar where for centuries humble priests began their day by offering holy Mass for themselves and for their people.

Orientation—A Natural Instinct

Orientation, in its present sense of facing a particular direction, is a religious custom which long predated Christianity. The Jews, wherever they lived in the world, turned to face the temple in Jerusalem when they prayed. So-called liturgical "experts" today often attempt to justify Mass facing the people by stating that Our Lord did not turn His back upon His Apostles at the Last Supper. Of course He didn't, but neither did He face them across a table. They were all on the same side, facing the temple! It is thus nonsensical to claim that we are returning to the practice of the Last Supper by adopting the practice of a celebration facing the people. Similarly, it is equally nonsensical to claim that having Mass in the vernacular is a return to what took place at the Last Supper. A major part of the Jewish paschal liturgy was conducted in Hebrew, as it is today. Hebrew was no more comprehensible to an ordinary Jew at the time of Our Lord than Latin is to an ordinary Mexican today, even though Aramaic, the language then used in Palestine, was derived from Hebrew, just as Spanish is derived from Latin.

Facing a particular direction for worship seems to be a natural religious instinct. This also appears to be the case with conducting religious worship in a non-vernacular or at least a highly-stylized form of language.³ Religions can be divided into two groups as regards the precise direction which must be adopted for worship. The first stipulates an orientation of a geographical nature: Muslims turn in the direction of the Kaaba of Mecca, Jews toward Jerusalem. Others practice an orientation of an astronomic or cosmic nature; these include most classical religions and Christianity. The divine nature often ascribed to the sun made orientation per se, i.e., worshipping in the direction of the East, symbol of the rising sun, a very common phenomenon. It is probable that the adoption of the eastward direction for worship by the early Christians was influenced by the cultural milieu in which they found themselves, and not surprisingly this caused some disquiet. St. Leo the Great warned that even the appearance of a parallel between Christianity and paganism must be avoided. There is a parallel here with the adoption of December 25 as the date for Christmas. Pagans commonly had a feast in honor of the birth of the unconquered sun at about this time. The continually shortening days indicated its death, but the winter solstice⁴ marked its triumphant rebirth.

Christ—Sol Salutis

The adoption of the eastward direction for worship by Christians also represented a reaction against the Jewish practice of turning towards Jerusalem to pray. The East symbolized the heavenly Jerusalem in contrast with the earthly Jerusalem of the Jews. The Christians of antiquity found a rich and seemingly inexhaustible symbolism in the eastward direction. Christians worshipped not the sun king but the King of the sun, because the sun itself was created by Christ (non est Dominus Sol factus, sed per quem Sol factus est). Our Lord had faced the West while offering the sacrifice of His life upon the Cross, and so by facing eastwards during the Mass we are actually facing Him, because the Sacrifice of the Cross is made present during the Mass. The unconquered sun of paganism (sol invictus) had become a symbol for the unconquered Son of God, the victor over death and Satan, the sun of salvation—sol salutis. Christ had risen from His tomb as surely as the sun rose in the East each day, and every sunrise was a cause of hope to the first Christians whose lives were permeated by the joy of the Resurrection; they were truly described as "an Easter-people." St. Thomas Aquinas taught that the eastward direction symbolized both Paradise lost and Paradise regained. Paradise had been situated in the East, and so by worshipping in this direction we symbolize our desire to regain Paradise, the heavenly Paradise represented by the East. There are also traditions that just as the birth of the Messiah was heralded by a star in the East (stellam ejus in Oriente), so His Second Coming will be like lightning come from the same direction (sicut enim fulgur exit ab oriente), Matt. 24:27. There is also a tradition that the Second Coming will take place during the celebration of Mass. With their eyes fixed on the East, priest and people will be prepared to receive Him in an attitude of adoration.

It should now be apparent how fatuous it is to speak of the priest celebrating Mass with "his back to the people." During Mass the priest stands between people and altar, a mediator between God and man, the outermost representative of humanity, standing at the very point where heaven and earth come together when God the Son is brought down upon the altar as our Sacrificial Victim (hostia). The priest is also like a shepherd in eastern countries. He does not need to drive his flock from behind, to watch them lest they stray. He walks before them, leading them to green pastures or the safety of their fold. They know him and he knows them. But Catholics at worship today no longer look outwards and upwards to heaven, no longer fix their hearts and minds upon Our Lord. Contemporary Catholicism is an introspective religion, symbolized aptly by the turning round of the altar so that, turned in upon themselves, priest and people can fix their minds upon each other.

The Witness of Archaeology

It has been proved beyond any shadow of doubt that from the time the Christians were first allowed to build churches, they constructed them along an east-west axis. Some had the apse containing the altar at the east end, and the entrance at the west; in others this procedure was reversed. By the end of the fourth century almost every church building in the East had the apse at the east end, and by the second half of the fifth century this was also the case in the West. But, even where the altar was situated at the west end of the church, Mass was still celebrated facing the East, and so the altars of these churches were constructed in such a manner that the priest could stand on the west side in order to celebrate Mass facing the East. This arrangement can still be seen in such basilicas as St. Peter's in Rome, and it is precisely this arrangement that has given rise to the myth of Mass facing the people as a practice of the early Church.

But surely, it might be argued, if the celebrant stood on the west side of the altar, as he would have done in St. Peter's Basilica, then Mass must have been celebrated facing the people. Not at all. The ancient practice in churches where the apse was at the west end was as follows: the congregation did not stand directly in front of the altar but on either side of the nave, the men on one side and the women on the other. During the first part of the Mass, the Mass of the Catechumens, the congregation would face the celebrant in order to hear the readings and the homily. But for the Mass of the Faithful, now known as the Eucharistic liturgy, they would all turn to face the East. Ancient liturgies contain directions for the congregation to face the East, or, as the instruction was usually expressed, to turn towards the Lord (Conversi ad Dominum). Turning toward the Lord, symbolized by the rising sun, and turning towards the East were synonomous. This expression is found at the conclusion of forty-seven authentic sermons of St. Augustine. The construction of the altar in such basilicas as St. Peter's was, then, to make possible a Mass facing the East and not a Mass facing the people. The Missal of St. Pius V contained a rubric which had been drafted to cater for the situation in the few Roman basilicas where the altar was at the west end. This rubric referred to altars sited versus populum, facing the people. Long before the pontificate of Pope St. Pius V, the practice of siting the altar at the west end of the church had become virtually non-existent outside a handful of Roman basilicas, and the custom of turning to face the East had naturally died out. But, not surprisingly, the practice in a few important basilicas was catered for in the rubrics of the Roman Missal, and, as the priest now faced the people throughout the Mass, it was only natural that the phrase versus populum was used.⁵ It is possible, probable in fact, that those who drafted the rubrics were unaware of the reason for the deviation from normal practice found in these basilicas. But with the findings of modern scholarship no one purporting to be an authority on the liturgy has the least excuse for claiming that the siting of an altar in a few basilicas in Rome, and a rubric in the Missal of St. Pius V, prove that Mass facing the people was the ancient custom of the Church.

The Witness of the East

It is of considerable significance that the Eastern Church developed the custom of placing a screen (the ikonostasis) before the altar. The faithful are thus unable to see the priest during the most important moments of the Mass. The eminent liturgist, Father Joseph Jungmann, writes:

The existence of the Ikonostasis manifests a belief that it is not simply unnecessary for the congregation to see every part of the liturgical action but that there are certain parts which they should positively not be allowed to see. Sufficient stress has not been placed on the fact that almost all principles which the liturgical experts of the Roman Rite now maintain are essential for a satisfactory celebration are a straightforward and even offensive condemnation of the practice of Eastern Christians. In the churches of the East the mentality of the ancient Church is still maintained—the Eucharistic celebration is an act of worship. St. Augustine's admonition conversi ad Dominum is timeless. Priest and people come together to turn towards the Lord, to offer Him a solemn sacrifice, to forget the things of earth and fix their gaze upon the heavenly Jerusalem. The call in the West today is to relate the Mass to everyday life, and this is something which the traditional eastward celebration made clear. This, says Father Jungmann, was the practice of the ancient Church:

Pastoral Advantages

The practice of celebrating Mass facing the people is alleged to have considerable pastoral advantages, the principal one being that the congregation can see what the priest is doing. Such eminent authorities as Professor Cyrille Vogel have demonstrated that there was never any question in the early Church of celebrating Mass in such a manner that the congregation could see the liturgical acts in order to play a more effective part in the celebration. This idea is a modern one. It is alien to the entire Catholic liturgical ethos in both East and West and confers no pastoral benefit whatsoever, even for children. On the contrary, far from deepening the attention of the congregation it is likely to diminish it. When the priest faces the people across the altar there is no variation to stimulate interest. He simply stands there talking at the people and, in the New Mass, the number of visual gestures such as genuflection and signs of the Cross have been drastically curtailed. The traditional Mass was, as Msgr. Knox observed, a kind of sacred dance with continual variation. The priest would turn to greet the congregation from time to time, he would turn to show them the Host in the Ecce Agnus Dei, he would raise Host and Chalice high and make his double genuflection. This was all combined with the contrast between the silence of the Canon and the ringing of the bells. The Eastern Churches certainly show great pastoral insight in having the most sacred moments of the liturgy enacted behind the Ikonostasis. When the priest re-emerges bringing God the Son, the dramatic impact is considerably enhanced. Added to this, of course, is the significance of the eastward orientation—priest and people facing the heavenly Jerusalem to offer their solemn sacrifice.

It is quite obvious that many clergy, the younger ones in particular, have been struck by the evident boredom and apathy on the faces of their congregations and have been prompted to arouse interest by providing the people with a dramatic performance. If they succeed in this it is not the liturgical actions which are stimulating interest but the antics of the celebrant, often of a most unedifying nature.

The Testimony of Tradition

Fidelity to Tradition has been the most evident characteristic of the Catholic Church throughout her history. In his Summa Theologica, St. Thomas Aquinas warned us that: "It is absurd and a detestable shame, that we should suffer those traditions to be changed which we have received from the Fathers of old." The practice of celebrating the Eucharist facing the people as a deliberate pastoral policy originated with Martin Luther, it was taken up by leaders of the Protestant heresy in other countries. But where the Catholic Church is concerned, the claim that there was ever a time when Mass was celebrated facing the people as an act of conscious pastoral policy is total fantasy. The truth was expressed with admirable clarity by Msgr. Klaus Camber, Director of the Liturgical Institute of Regensburg, when he stated: "There never was a celebration versus populum in either the Eastern or Western Church. Instead there was a turning towards the East."

Conclusion

There is clearly no support from Tradition for a law mandating that Mass must be celebrated facing the people, and hence there must be no tabernacle upon the altar to impede visibility. If such a law had been promulgated since Vatican II it would be a condemnation of the entire liturgical Tradition of the Church, and hence would be highly suspect. Any priest would have ample justification for refusing to implement such an unprecedented violation of a tradition received from the Fathers of old. However, as I shall make clear in my next article, no law mandating a celebration facing the people has ever been promulgated since the Council.

—Continued next month—

1. Available from The Angelus Press, Box 1387, Dickinson, Texas 77539. Paper, $10.00; Hardback, $12.95.

2. The Catholic altar is, of course, also a table, as the Eucharistic banquet is served upon it after the Sacrifice, but the Mass is primarily a sacrifice, and the function of the sacrificial altar takes precedence.

3. This practice is common to such religions as Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. The phenomenon is examined in Chapter XVI of Pope Paul's New Mass. Thus by imposing a vernacular liturgy based as closely as possible on everyday English (as spoken in the U.S.A.), the bishops of the English-speaking world are going against what is evidently a profound and universal religious instinct.

4. A solstice is the time when the sun reaches its maximum distance from the equator. The summer solstice occurs at about 21 June when the sun touches the tropic of Cancer, and the days start to shorten. The winter solstice occurs around 21 December when it touches the tropic of Capricorn, and the days begin to lengthen.

5. See Ritus servandus in celebratione Missae, V, Article 3.