Paix liturgique

Rather than seeking to take a stance at all costs regarding the episcopal consecrations planned by the Priestly Fraternity of St. Pius X, the traditional family in the broadest sense would be well advised to rise above this destructive fray. Taking a stand “for” or “against” are positions that are too narrow: the priority is for each person, in their own place, to work toward being an instrument of peace. To extend a hand when others choose anathemas. To prefer the bandages of kindness to pouring salt on the Church’s gaping liturgical wounds. The stakes are not merely high. They are immense and of the utmost importance.

In this regard, St. Augustine’s maxim, “in necessariis, unitas; in dubiis, libertas; in omnibus, caritas,” could guide the reflection of all those who nourish their faith through the graces of the Vetus Ordo. This is all the more true given that the situation of the Church and of the episcopal consecrations performed in July 1988 is radically different from the current context. The vocational and existential crisis of the Catholic priesthood is evident. Let us recall the book by Benedict XVI and Cardinal Sarah, *From the Depths of Our Hearts* (Fayard), which defends priestly celibacy, as well as the well-known doctrinal upheavals linked to the synodal process initiated by Pope Francis—not to mention the climate of suspicion fostered by the episcopal conferences regarding the traditional ecosystem as a whole… “Our house is on fire,” Jacques Chirac, in a speech that has gone down in history, sought to warn of the very serious environmental challenges looming for the planet. The same is true today for the Church. “Our house is on fire”: it would be helpful to take stock of the situation in order to better contain the fire, fight it, extinguish it, and rebuild!

The Augustinian maxim “In necessariis, unitas; in dubiis, libertas; in omnibus, caritas” sums up a clear threefold principle that can serve as a compass for all who seek liturgical peace: unity on matters of necessity; freedom on matters that are not; charity in all things.

Yes, the Church is burning. Of course, she possesses the words of eternal life. Yet her history and her life cannot be reduced, as the historian Émile Poulat liked to repeat, to the image of a Corpus Christi altar… The Church is, of course, burning not only because of the fuel of its members’ personal sins, but also because Satan’s smoke has not been extinguished since it began licking Bernini’s colonnades. On June 29, 1972, Pope Paul VI, in the homily he delivered on the feast day of Saints Peter and Paul, set the stage for a Church in the midst of a post-conciliar crisis: “Faced with the situation of the Church today, we have the feeling that through some crack the smoke of Satan has entered the temple of God.” “We see doubt, uncertainty, problems, anxiety, dissatisfaction, and conflict. People no longer trust the Church.”

This mistrust of the Church among many of the faithful is undoubtedly the most striking symptom of the crisis of credibility facing the Church as an institution. With God’s grace, our baptismal life is nourished by this trust in the Church—this warm and welcoming home, firmly grounded in its Tradition, and so tenderly evoked in the parable of the messianic banquet (Gospel for the Second Sunday after Pentecost).

“A man prepared a great banquet and invited many guests. And at the hour of the meal, he sent his servant to tell the guests to come, because everything was ready.” The master has but one desire: ut impleátur domus mea / that my house may be filled!

Yes, God wants his Church to be filled: “Yes, go out into the highways and along the hedgerows, and urge people to come in.” Among the characteristics of the Church, theology highlights several. The Church is holy, she is catholic, apostolic, and missionary. One of the characteristics of the Church that Father Victor-Alain Berto cherished lay precisely in her capacity for integration.

Indeed, the Church, throughout its unbroken tradition and two-thousand-year history, has demonstrated with extraordinary tenacity its desire—like a mother wolf—to watch over her young, to protect them, and to welcome as best she can the members who live by her sacraments and her Gospel.

All the more so when there is a fire: the urgency of the situation dictates that you do not ask for the ID of the person handing you the bucket. You don’t lecture him on how to carry it, and you don’t waste time asking whether he has permission to carry it or whether he has been authorized to extinguish the fire. You give thanks for his helping hands.

As Bishop Schneider put it with common sense (a common sense that can be grounded in reason, given the visit he made to the Fraternity at the request of Pope Francis): “The legal aspect is secondary because of the state of emergency in the Church.”

Faced with the spectacle we have been witnessing since Benedict XVI’s resignation, there would be reason not to lament (is this really the time for wailing?), but at the very least to ask questions.

The strength of the traditional ecosystem has always lain in its desire to serve the Church, in its proper place, according to the principles articulated by St. Augustine: Unity on essential matters, freedom on non-essential matters, and finally, charity in all things. Faced with the unfair trial that Tradition has endured since the post-conciliar era at the hands of the Pharisees of our time, advocates of the Mass from all walks of life can take to heart Robert Brasillach’s reflection at his trial: “We may be—or may have been—mistaken about people, facts, or circumstances, but we have nothing to regret regarding the intention that drove us to act. ”

Rather than getting lost in administrative conjecture, we laypeople and faithful attached to the traditional teachings of the Faith strive to avoid unnecessary anathemas and wish to include both the Church and the Fraternity in our prayers.

Pope Leo XIV, to whom Christ entrusted His seamless tunic, “ut unum sint / that they may all be one,” and with him, the bishops of the entire world, foremost among them our territorial bishop, inasmuch as he is the guardian of sacred doctrine within the territory entrusted to him.

The four future bishops of the Priestly Fraternity of St. Pius X, that they may know, through their example, their kindness, and their wisdom, how to help the members of their Fraternity serve the Church with the zeal for which it is known, but without bitter or sad zeal (“your joy, no one can take it away from you”) and without unnecessary excess (everything that is excessive is insignificant).

According to Chesterton, “The happiest of human destinies is to find something to love; but the second happiest fate is certainly to find something to fight against. ” What a great joy it is—what a wonderful gift—to be able to love and draw nourishment from the traditional Mass and to discover its charms (as exemplified by the remarkable historical and aesthetic work carried out by the Claves website)!

What a great joy it is for us, too, to have so many backsides to kick: in trial and struggle, the human soul finds the ground for the strongest friendships and the launching pad for its noblest expressions!

So, of course, from a human perspective, things are certainly worse than they actually are. But they can also turn out better than we hope. Scatter the ashes to rekindle the fire, so that the house of the Church may burn ever more brightly—but this time with the true fire of charity. The very fire by which each of us will be judged.