Cardinal Roche on the Roman Mass: Tradition vs Modernity

Cardinal Roche, the Roman Mass and the attempt to make a twentieth-century liturgical settlement the measure of Catholic fidelity

Cardinal Arthur Roche’s latest interview reveals a fundamental confusion at the heart of Rome’s continuing restrictions upon the traditional Roman liturgy. Confronted with questions about what Vatican II actually required, what the reformers subsequently produced, and why Catholics remain attached to the Church’s inherited worship, the Prefect of Divine Worship repeatedly substitutes assertions of authority for historical and theological argument. His warning that traditional Catholics are moving away from the centre of Catholicism exposes an increasingly untenable assumption: that fidelity to the Church must be measured by acceptance of the postconciliar liturgical reconstruction, and that criticism of this reconstruction constitutes resistance to Catholic authority itself.

Cardinal Arthur Roche has delivered another warning to traditional Catholics. In an exclusive interview with Thomas Edwards, published by AdVaticanum on 13 October 2026, the Prefect of the Dicastery for Divine Worship suggests that those who resist the liturgical direction established after the Second Vatican Council are placing themselves in spiritual danger. His language is unmistakable: Catholics who reject or resist that direction are edging away from the centre of Catholicism. The accusation is grave, not least because it comes from the official responsible for administering the Church’s liturgical discipline. It deserves considerably more scrutiny than the Cardinal appears willing to extend to the arguments of those whom he condemns.¹

The central defect in Roche’s reasoning is his repeated identification of three distinct matters: the authority of the Second Vatican Council, the authority of Pope Paul VI to promulgate a revised Missal, and the historical and theological merits of the particular reform which resulted. The first two concern legitimate ecclesiastical jurisdiction. The third concerns whether the exercise of that jurisdiction produced what the Council actually prescribed, whether the changes represented organic development, and whether their effects upon Catholic worship and belief were beneficial. The possession of authority establishes the competence to legislate. It does not guarantee that every legislative decision was necessary, prudent or successful. Yet Roche’s defence of the postconciliar settlement depends upon treating these propositions as practically interchangeable. Once the reform is identified with the Council, criticism of the reform can be presented as rejection of the Council; once the Council is identified with the Church, the critic can be accused of distancing himself from Catholicism. The argument arrives at its conclusion without ever establishing the premise upon which everything depends.

This distinction is not an invention devised to excuse disobedience. It belongs to the very nature of ecclesiastical authority, which is exercised within the Church’s received Tradition and for the salvation of souls. As Nuntiatoria argued in Authority Is Not Alchemy, a Roman Pontiff may possess genuine jurisdiction and nevertheless exercise it imprudently. The Council, the Reform, and the Missing “Thus” subsequently examined the tendency to treat conciliar prescriptions and the decisions of the Consilium as though they constituted a single historical act. More recently, The Reform Before the Reform traced the systematic alteration of priestly formation and ceremonial practice during the years preceding the promulgation of the new Missal. Roche’s latest interview does not answer these arguments. It provides an unusually clear demonstration of why they remain necessary.²

Edwards places before the Cardinal a straightforward question concerning Sacrosanctum Concilium. The Council required the preservation of Latin in the Latin rites, envisaged the faithful learning to sing or say their proper parts in Latin, and prohibited the arbitrary alteration of worship by individual priests. It also assigned Gregorian chant pride of place and stipulated that innovations should occur only when the good of the Church genuinely and certainly required them, following careful theological, historical and pastoral investigation. New forms, it declared, must grow organically from forms already existing. These were not incidental observations. They were the principles by which the Council intended its programme of liturgical renewal to be governed.³

Roche’s answer is remarkable for its irrelevance to the substance of the question. He dismisses the criticism as a misreading of tradition, before recalling that Bishop Gordon Wheeler ensured that the revised Mass was celebrated in Latin in every deanery of the Diocese of Leeds. The recollection may be perfectly accurate. It establishes nothing about whether the reform as a whole corresponded to the Council’s prescriptions. Edwards was not asking whether the Novus Ordo could be celebrated in Latin, or whether some bishops attempted to preserve particular elements of traditional worship. He was asking whether the Mass promulgated under Paul VI faithfully reflected the Constitution which authorised its reform. An example of Latin celebrations in Leeds cannot explain the widespread disappearance of Latin from ordinary parish worship, the marginalisation of Gregorian chant, or the extensive changes to the textual and ceremonial structure of the Roman Mass. The existence of an exception is not an answer to a question about the general settlement.

There is a more fundamental difficulty. Sacrosanctum Concilium did indeed authorise substantial revision. It called for the simplification of rites, the removal of duplications, the restoration of certain elements, a richer presentation of Sacred Scripture and a wider use of the vernacular. Its programme cannot honestly be represented as a mandate merely to translate the inherited Missal while leaving everything else untouched. But neither did the Council command the substitution of the traditional Offertory prayers, the introduction of alternative Eucharistic Prayers, the particular reconstruction of the sanctoral calendar, or the widespread adoption of celebration facing the congregation. Those decisions belonged to the reforming authorities and were subsequently approved through the exercise of papal jurisdiction. Their legality does not establish that they were demanded by the Council. Nor does their promulgation, considered by itself, demonstrate the organic continuity which the Council expressly required.

Pope Paul VI himself acknowledged how extensively the Roman Missal had been altered. In the apostolic constitution Missale Romanum, he identified the introduction of three additional Eucharistic Prayers as a principal innovation, described modifications to the rites surrounding the preparation of bread and wine, and recognised substantial revisions to the prayers, readings and calendar. He defended these changes through appeals to historical scholarship, pastoral needs and the recovery of ancient sources. These arguments deserve serious consideration. But they remain arguments concerning the merits of the changes, not propositions which become historically unquestionable because the Pope approved their implementation.⁴

The theological significance of the reform is not exhausted by establishing that the revised books continue to contain orthodox statements of Catholic doctrine. They do. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal expressly affirms the Eucharistic Sacrifice, its propitiatory character, the Real Presence and the continuity of Catholic Eucharistic doctrine with the Council of Trent. The Novus Ordo, celebrated according to the Church’s prescribed form with valid matter, form, minister and intention, is a valid celebration of the Eucharist. To suggest that its official texts simply repudiate Catholic sacrificial doctrine would be inaccurate. But this acknowledgement does not settle whether the revised rite expresses that doctrine with the same clarity, consistency and theological density as the inherited Roman liturgy. Sacramental validity, doctrinal orthodoxy, juridical legitimacy, organic continuity and pastoral excellence are not interchangeable judgements. A rite may be valid without being theologically or ceremonially identical to its predecessor; it may retain orthodox doctrine while altering the relative prominence and habitual expression of that doctrine.⁵

The inherited Roman Mass possesses a coherent ritual grammar. Its Offertory prayers anticipate the Sacrifice through a developed language of oblation. Its unique and normative Roman Canon expresses the solemn continuity of the Church’s Eucharistic prayer. Its ceremonial distinctions between sacred ministers, repeated gestures of reverence, orientation towards the altar and relationship between silence and audible prayer collectively communicate a particular sacramental understanding. These elements are not merely aesthetic embellishments surrounding an otherwise interchangeable Eucharistic formula. They form part of the means by which the Church has taught her faithful to apprehend the mystery being celebrated. Their alteration therefore has theological consequences even where the doctrine itself remains formally affirmed.

This is why the familiar appeal to reverent celebrations of the Novus Ordo does not resolve the controversy. A revised Mass celebrated in Latin, ad orientem, with Gregorian chant, incense, traditional vestments and the Roman Canon may possess great dignity and be spiritually fruitful. It nevertheless remains the revised Ordo, with its altered Offertory, different lectionary, restructured calendar and modified ceremonial. Reverence improves the celebration of the rite; it does not restore the texts and gestures omitted from its official books. The question concerns the reform as promulgated, not merely the abuses which subsequently accompanied its implementation. To answer criticism of structural changes by pointing to a dignified celebration is to change the subject.

Roche invokes Pius XII’s Mediator Dei in support of his understanding of ecclesial worship. The appeal is entirely legitimate insofar as the encyclical defends the Church’s authority to regulate sacred rites and rejects an individualistic conception of the liturgy. Yet Mediator Dei also insists upon the preservation of doctrinal integrity, recognises the gradual development of liturgical forms and warns against the indiscriminate reconstruction of worship according to supposedly primitive precedents. Pius XII did not regard the liturgy as an archaeological collection from which later developments might be discarded whenever an earlier model appeared pastorally attractive. Nor did he treat the faithful’s participation as though its authenticity depended principally upon external activity. The encyclical understands participation within the sacrificial action of Christ and the hierarchical constitution of His Mystical Body. Its teaching establishes the nature and limits of legitimate liturgical development; it cannot be reduced to a general permission to reconstruct inherited worship according to contemporary pastoral theories.⁶

Indeed, Pope Leo XIV has himself recently reiterated the very principles which Roche’s interview leaves insufficiently examined. In his audience of 27 May 2026, Leo returned explicitly to Sacrosanctum Concilium 23, emphasising the Council’s insistence upon genuine necessity, organic development and careful theological, historical and pastoral investigation. The Pope’s account defended the reform within the living Tradition of the Church; it was not a repudiation of the postconciliar Missal. But precisely because the principle of organic development remains central to his defence, it must retain genuine historical significance. If reform is required to grow from existing forms, the relationship between what previously existed and what was subsequently constructed is properly open to examination. One cannot invoke organic continuity as a theological justification while simultaneously treating the investigation of that continuity as disobedience.⁷

The contradiction becomes particularly apparent in Roche’s response to the reported introduction of a Quranic chant and a lay homily at a Belgian university Mass. The Cardinal condemns the episode unequivocally, describing it as a misunderstanding of the Eucharist and an unacceptable adaptation of worship to contemporary preferences. In principle, his criticism is sound. The Mass is not a social gathering whose contents may be rearranged according to the wishes of organisers. Sacred worship is received from the Church and governed by her legitimate discipline. But this principle also illuminates the need to examine authorised changes according to the theological and historical criteria governing their introduction. There is a decisive juridical difference between an unauthorised local innovation and a reform promulgated by the Roman Pontiff. Yet the possession of authority explains who may legislate; it does not establish that every particular decision was necessary or wise. Roche is correct that priests must not manufacture their own liturgy. It does not follow that every reconstruction undertaken by competent authority is thereby demonstrated to be an improvement upon what the Church received.

His recollections of the older Mass offer no stronger argument. Roche describes serving a priest who demanded that Mass be completed in fifteen minutes, apparently regarding this as illustrative of the way the traditional liturgy was formerly celebrated. It may well have been characteristic of particular priests and parishes. But hurried celebration demonstrates deficient priestly formation or reverence, not an intrinsic defect requiring the reconstruction of the rite itself. The Church did not need to replace the Roman Offertory in order to discourage careless celebrations of Mass. Equally curious is the Cardinal’s speculation that Saint Paul’s rebuke of abuses at Corinth may have involved excessive attention to the celebrant’s clothing. The Apostle’s actual criticism concerns divisions, selfishness and irreverence at the Lord’s Supper. He recalls the institution of the Eucharist and warns against unworthy reception. He does not identify the development of sacerdotal vesture as the problem. The widespread use of distinctive liturgical vestments throughout the apostolic Churches of East and West cannot be dismissed through conjecture about the clothing of first-century Christian ministers.

Roche’s treatment of Summorum Pontificum reveals a comparable selectivity. He presents Benedict XVI’s legislation principally as an accommodation intended to facilitate ecclesiastical reconciliation, arguing that its wider use to promote the traditional liturgy contradicted its purpose. Reconciliation was certainly an important consideration, but Benedict’s accompanying letter expressly recognised the legitimate aspirations of Catholics already in full communion with the Holy See who wished to worship according to the earlier books. He acknowledged that younger Catholics had discovered these rites and found in them a profound spiritual richness. Most significantly, he affirmed that the Missal of 1962 had never been juridically abrogated. Benedict was therefore doing considerably more than constructing a temporary instrument for ecclesiastical negotiations. He was recognising a continuing liturgical inheritance within the Roman Church.⁸

The significance of that judgement does not disappear because Pope Francis subsequently adopted a different disciplinary policy. Traditionis Custodes substantially reversed Benedict’s legislative arrangements and identified the reformed books as the unique expression of the Roman Rite’s lex orandi. Its restrictions have real juridical consequences. Yet a change in legislation does not alter the historical identity of the liturgy previously regulated under different provisions. Nor does it retrospectively establish that Benedict’s theological or pastoral assessment was false. The Roman liturgical inheritance was not created by Summorum Pontificum, and it did not cease to belong to the Church’s history when the permissions associated with that legislation were restricted. Ecclesiastical law governs the celebration of liturgical rites. It cannot make their historical continuity irrelevant.⁹

The Cardinal is equally confident concerning the episcopal consultation which preceded Traditionis Custodes. Asked about documentation published by Diane Montagna from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith’s 2020 inquiry, he insists that bishops wanted change and refers to concerns repeatedly expressed to him personally. But the material published by Montagna indicated a considerably more favourable assessment of Summorum Pontificum among responding bishops than the public rationale for its restriction might have suggested. The Vatican’s response, delivered by Press Office Director Matteo Bruni in July 2025, was that the published extracts represented only a partial account, since further confidential reports and consultations had also informed the process. That qualification must be acknowledged. It does not establish that the published assessment was false, nor does it disclose the additional evidence upon which a different conclusion depends. The documentary question remains unresolved in the public record.¹⁰

Roche’s personal assurances cannot resolve that discrepancy. A worldwide episcopal consultation is not interchangeable with the recollection of conversations, however numerous, between bishops and a senior curial official. The claim that traditionalists are particularly noisy is still less relevant. Their public prominence tells us nothing about how the bishops answered the questions put to them, how those answers were evaluated, or whether the resulting assessment was accurately represented when the restrictions were promulgated. If the opinions of bishops were sufficiently important to justify the legislation, the faithful are entitled to ask how those opinions were assessed. Ecclesiastical authority may act upon confidential advice; it does not follow that public claims about the evidential basis for its decisions should be insulated from scrutiny.

The interview’s most serious theological error emerges when Roche characterises the Council as the highest form of legislation in the Church and suggests that resistance to its liturgical direction places Catholics in spiritual peril. An ecumenical council, acting with and under the Roman Pontiff, undoubtedly exercises supreme authority. Its authentic doctrinal teachings command the assent appropriate to their character. But the Council itself is not simply a legislative instrument, and its authority is not identical with every administrative, disciplinary or pastoral decision subsequently taken in its name. The Council’s actual texts, the interpretations placed upon them, the legislation enacted to implement them and the customs which later developed must be distinguished if the historical record is to remain intelligible. To question whether the postconciliar reform faithfully implemented Sacrosanctum Concilium is not, by that fact alone, to reject the authority of the Council which promulgated it.

Nor does Catholic obedience require the faithful to believe that every exercise of papal jurisdiction has been prudent. The First Vatican Council’s doctrine of the Roman primacy and papal infallibility establishes the divinely instituted authority of the successor of Saint Peter. It does not transform every disciplinary decision, historical judgement or programme of ecclesiastical administration into an irreformable truth. Papal authority is real and binding within its proper sphere; it is not a guarantee of perfect governance. Indeed, the possibility of amending or repealing ecclesiastical legislation presupposes that legitimate authority may make decisions subsequently judged inadequate. The Church’s law is not thereby rendered meaningless. It is recognised for what it is: an exercise of pastoral government ordered towards the preservation of the Faith and the salvation of souls.

Roche’s statements about Pope Leo XIV raise a further difficulty. He declares unequivocally that the present Pope will neither change Traditionis Custodes nor restore Summorum Pontificum, citing Leo’s address at Notre-Dame in Paris and his concluding catechesis on Sacrosanctum Concilium. But the homily at Notre-Dame, delivered on Friday 25 September rather than the Saturday evening recalled by Roche, urged clergy and religious to place ecclesial communion before personal preferences. It did not announce a decision concerning the future of the traditional Missal. The concluding catechesis of 26 August defended the theological purposes of liturgical reform and its organic relationship with Tradition, but similarly did not promulgate a determination concerning the continued operation of Traditionis Custodes. These interventions illuminate Leo’s general understanding of the liturgy. They do not establish the specific future legislative policy which his prefect so confidently attributes to him.¹¹

A cardinal may reasonably anticipate the direction of papal policy. He may possess information arising from his official responsibilities which has not been made public. But unless he identifies his remarks as the communication of an actual papal decision, an expectation remains distinguishable from the Pope’s exercise of authority. As Nuntiatoria previously observed when comparing Cardinal Robert Sarah’s hopes for a relaxation of the restrictions with Roche’s insistence upon their continuation, the decision belongs to neither cardinal. It belongs to Leo XIV. The authority of the Roman Pontiff cannot be invoked to confer certainty upon a prefect’s interpretation of statements which do not themselves address the precise legislative question.

The Cardinal’s pastoral observations are no more convincing. Asked about the apparent vitality of traditional communities, particularly among younger Catholics, Roche suggests that their cohesion may reflect excessive like-mindedness rather than exceptional commitment. There is a legitimate caution against idealising any particular religious constituency. Traditional Catholics are no more immune from spiritual pride, factionalism or defective understanding than those attending the reformed liturgy. Nor does the existence of devout traditional congregations establish that equally faithful Catholics are absent elsewhere. Yet these qualifications do not explain the attraction of younger generations to a form of worship which many ecclesiastical authorities expected gradually to disappear.

The phenomenon deserves examination rather than suspicion. As Nuntiatoria recently observed when considering Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone’s remarks on the future of traditional worship, younger Catholics are discovering an inherited liturgy which they never personally experienced before its displacement. Their attraction cannot adequately be explained by nostalgia. The stability of the traditional rite, its sacred language, its sacrificial orientation, its ritual discipline and its theological symbolism provide a coherent religious formation which differs substantially from much contemporary parish experience. This does not establish that every traditional community is exemplary or that the revised books are incapable of nourishing holiness. It raises a serious pastoral question concerning what these Catholics have found in the inherited liturgy and why its continued availability should be regarded principally as a problem rather than a resource.¹²

There is a deeper ecclesiological contradiction in Roche’s argument. He repeatedly insists that Catholics must receive their worship from the Church rather than construct a religion according to their individual preferences. The principle is sound. But the traditional Roman Mass is precisely something received. It was not assembled by modern traditionalists in pursuit of a preferred ecclesiastical identity. Its prayers, ceremonies and doctrinal emphases were transmitted through generations of Catholic life, regulated by legitimate authority, and incorporated into the ordinary worship of the Roman Church long before the postconciliar controversy arose. Its continuity is a historical reality, whatever judgement may be made concerning the present discipline governing its celebration.

The inherited Roman liturgy therefore cannot be treated as merely another contemporary preference competing with the reformed Missal. It belongs to the Church’s received patrimony. Its continued observance may be subject to lawful regulation, but its Catholic character cannot be retrospectively erased by a change in disciplinary policy. A rite which nourished the faith of countless saints does not suddenly become intrinsically incompatible with Catholic communion because a later generation adopts a different judgement concerning the preferred form of Roman worship. Individual Catholics may misuse attachment to tradition as an expression of rebellion; particular groups may reject legitimate authority. Such conduct must be judged according to its actual circumstances. It cannot justify transferring the supposed guilt of individuals to the liturgical inheritance itself.

This is precisely where the Cardinal’s understanding of unity proves inadequate. The unity of the Church does not depend upon universal conformity to a particular twentieth-century arrangement of the Roman Missal. The Eastern Catholic Churches remain fully Catholic while preserving distinct ancient liturgical traditions. Within the Latin Church itself, legitimate variations of rite and use have existed across centuries. This diversity does not abolish the Church’s authority to regulate particular forms of worship, but it demonstrates that ecclesial unity cannot simply be equated with ceremonial uniformity. The bond of Catholic communion consists fundamentally in the profession of the same Faith, participation in the sacramental life of the Church and submission to legitimate ecclesiastical government. Its liturgical expression is ordered towards that reality, not the other way round.

Roche’s concern for unity would be more persuasive if it were accompanied by a serious account of why the inherited Roman Mass has become so problematic for those charged with administering the postconciliar settlement. The older liturgy was not condemned by the Second Vatican Council. Benedict XVI recognised its continuing spiritual significance. The Church’s own history demonstrates its capacity to form saints, sustain missionary endeavour and communicate Catholic doctrine. If particular traditionalist groups have misused attachment to the rite as a means of rejecting ecclesiastical authority, that misuse should be identified and corrected. But the existence of abuses does not establish that the rite itself has become a threat to Catholic unity, any more than abuses committed in the reformed liturgy establish that the revised Missal is intrinsically defective.

The central question remains whether the postconciliar reconstruction achieved what the Council intended. Its defenders are entitled to invoke the Council’s genuine desire for liturgical renewal, greater access to Sacred Scripture and more conscious participation by the faithful. They are entitled to argue that particular changes served those purposes. But they cannot reasonably regard the argument as concluded merely because the reform was promulgated. The Council’s requirement of organic development was not a ceremonial formality. It was intended to safeguard the relationship between legitimate progress and sound Tradition. A defence of the reform which refuses to examine that relationship undermines the very principle upon which the reform was authorised.

The Church’s authority over sacred worship is therefore neither an alternative source of revelation nor a guarantee that every historical decision concerning the liturgy was wise. Its function is ministerial, exercised within the received Faith and directed towards the salvation of souls. Dei Verbum expressly teaches that the Magisterium is not above the Word of God but serves it, preserving and faithfully expounding what has been handed down. This does not subordinate the Church’s teaching authority to private judgement. It identifies the divine inheritance which that authority exists to guard. The same principle illuminates the governance of sacred worship: ecclesiastical authority is entrusted with the liturgical patrimony of the Church, not empowered to make its history disappear or its theological significance irrelevant.¹³

Cardinal Roche asks traditional Catholics what more they want when the Pope has permitted some continued celebration according to the older books. The answer ought not to be difficult. They seek recognition that fidelity to the inherited Roman liturgy is not, in itself, evidence of hostility towards the Catholic Church. They seek the possibility of transmitting that inheritance without being regarded as a provisional pastoral difficulty awaiting eventual absorption into another liturgical arrangement. They seek historical honesty concerning what Vatican II actually prescribed, theological seriousness concerning the changes subsequently introduced, and an acknowledgement that the merits of a particular reform do not become unquestionable simply because the reform received papal approval.

Above all, they seek an ecclesiastical discussion in which legitimate criticism is answered rather than converted into an accusation of defective Catholic loyalty.

The distinction between refusing obedience to a lawful command and questioning whether that command was prudent is fundamental. So too is the distinction between rejecting ecclesiastical authority and arguing that its exercise has produced harmful consequences. A Catholic may recognise the Roman Pontiff as the legitimate successor of Saint Peter, accept the authority of an ecumenical council, acknowledge the validity of the revised liturgical books, and still maintain that the reconstruction of the Roman Mass represented a damaging departure from the organic continuity which the Council itself required. Such a judgement may be contested, but it is not refuted by imputing disobedience to the person who makes it.

None of this requires an accusation that Cardinal Roche consciously intends to deceive. His convictions may be entirely sincere, and his concern for ecclesial unity genuine. But sincerity does not establish the soundness of an argument, nor does official responsibility excuse the failure to distinguish historical fact from interpretation, legislation from theological judgement, and papal declarations from a prefect’s expectations. A cardinal charged with the Church’s sacred worship has a particular obligation to make those distinctions carefully, especially when warning Catholics that their spiritual fidelity is at stake.

The danger in Roche’s presentation is that the postconciliar liturgical settlement increasingly becomes, in practice, an additional measure of Catholic identity. The Council, the reform, the revised Missal and the policies intended to secure its future are treated as mutually reinforcing tests of loyalty. The inherited Roman liturgy then appears suspect not because any defect in its Catholic doctrine has been demonstrated, but because its continued existence permits comparison with what replaced it. The past becomes an embarrassment to the present, and the faithful who refuse to regard it as obsolete are accused of jeopardising unity.

Yet the Roman Rite is not the possession of the generation which reformed it, nor of the officials presently administering its restrictions. It is an inheritance received from the Church’s past and entrusted to each generation for faithful transmission. Its development must be governed by the Church’s legitimate authority, but that authority is exercised in service of the Tradition which gives Catholic worship its continuity and theological identity. The Church did not begin in 1969. Her liturgical inheritance was not created by a commission of experts, and its sanctity did not originate with legislation which temporarily enlarged or restricted access to it.

Cardinal Roche is entitled to defend the reformed Missal. He is entitled to explain the legislation governing its use and the restrictions presently imposed upon the traditional Roman liturgy. He is entitled to argue that the postconciliar reform represented a necessary and beneficial development. But he cannot reasonably expect those arguments to be accepted without examination, still less suggest that serious disagreement concerning their historical or theological merits necessarily places Catholics outside the centre of the Church.

The burden of demonstration remains with those who insist that the extensive reconstruction of inherited Roman worship constituted the organic development prescribed by the Council. Invoking the authority which promulgated the reform does not discharge that burden. Nor does pointing to the personal failings of traditionalists or the abuses which occasionally accompanied celebrations of the older Mass.

The centre of Catholicism is not a liturgical commission, a curial policy or the disciplinary settlement of any particular pontificate. It is Jesus Christ, the unchanging truth of His revelation, the sacramental economy He instituted, and the apostolic Faith which the Church is bound to preserve and transmit until the end of time.

The Roman liturgy exists in service of that Faith. Any legitimate reform must ultimately be judged in relation to it.

The reform cannot become the rule by which the Faith itself is judged.

And the answer to a serious question about the Church’s liturgical inheritance is not to question the Catholicity of the person asking it.

It is to answer the question.