I don't know anyone who cares about the TLM

Reprinted from America Rag with some edits.

By Kevin Clarke

I do not miss the Traditional Latin Mass. I have never been to one, I do not know anyone who has, and I am not even very sure what it is. From my Big Boy's Book of the Roman Empire, I'm guessing that it is some evil ritual involving human sacrifices, possibly throwing people to the lions, with everyone wearing togas while reciting "Hic haec hoc". But frankly I can't be bothered to find out, and after all this is an America Rag article, and so facts would be a little out of place anyway!

So, let's assume, as is reasonable, that nobody actually goes to a TLM, and that it is just a code phrase for "We hate Pope Francis", which is what social media seem to be full of these days. Admittedly, there were people who went to primitive masses in the Dark Ages before the 1960s, when everyone lived in mud huts, and there were no intelligent people like me around. Some of them are still alive, deaf, blind, and insane, pretending that they know what odd code phrases like "Gloria's Excellent, Dear" and "Agnes Day" mean.

Wait until Herr Austen Ivereigh finds out where you are, Agnes Day!

No, anyone who uses the phrase "Traditional Latin Mass" is using an anti-Francis code phrase, just as "Let's Go, Brandon" is a way of persecuting that devout Catholic Joe Biden - another hero to all America Rag readers. You see these loathsome phrases all over Twitter, and even on church websites.

I have never experienced the dread "clown Mass," so often reported in stories of the "Novus Ordo," and I cannot imagine what they are referring to. It's true that I put on a red nose, fright wig, and oversize trousers when I attend Mass - oh, and I fill the trousers with custard, as recommended in Pope Francis's "Trousers Custardes" (I am told) - but that doesn't make it a clown mass! And I NEVER do liturgical dances when my trousers are full of custard. Well, hardly ever. So you can be sure that the masses I attend are reverent and dignified, and much better than anything there was before.

"Kevin, can you give us a few paragraphs about the TLM?"

As my hero Michael Sean Winters, a columnist for the National Devout Catholic Fishwrap, has already pointed out, the attacks on Pope Francis from proponents of the Latin Mass are evidence that all people who like the old rite are thugs - and therefore it was time to close it down. After all, we must Build Back Better, and that means rejecting the old ways. If it makes a few old dinosaurs unhappy, then that's all to the good, surely?

Apparently, some people find the old rite spiritually nurturing, or do I mean nourishing? Nutritious, maybe? Well, REALLY! Do people go to church for spiritual nourishment? Good grief, next you'll be letting people kneel in prayer, to remain silent, or to be reverent. Surely, it's just an excuse for feeling superior over the rest of us, who go to church to chatter with friends, slouch around in the pews, and listen to sermons telling us how good we are?

Anyway, if you see someone claiming to like the TLM, they are probably just an illusion and you should seek medical help. They don't exist!

Olé smoke!

Several priests have written to me, saying, "Eccles, how can I make a spectacle of myself in church, like José Planas Moreno, the flamenco-dancing priest, and thus bring the congregations flocking back to Mass? So far I have made the mistake of emphasising controversial notions such as God and Jesus, and it simply isn't getting the punters in."

The Credo, a key part of the Mass.

Well, Father F (or Z, or R, or whoever you are), there are various ways in which priests can focus the attention of the congregation onto themselves, and away from the Almighty (who, after all, gets quite a lot of attention already). For example, in 1937, Harold Davidson, the former Rector of Stiffkey, displayed himself in a cage with a lion called Freddie, which eventually killed him. So, dear Father P (or B), we don't recommend this strategy. Similarly, liturgical bullfighting, even in the Malaga area, is still at an experimental stage, and is not yet a standard part of modern worship.

Warning: lions are like bishops - they bite!

No, the future definitely lies in dancing. It started with liturgical can-cans, and continued with Kate Bottley, the dancing vicar, now hotly tipped to be the first female bishop in the church of England. Dancing has now been taken up by those Catholic priests who find the general idea of worshipping God a little too dull.

Sursum Genua (Let's have a knees-up!)

Let's conclude with another picture of the man they call Fr Pepe: note the quiet dignity which which he explains the hermeneutic of continuity in the context of Pope Benedict's 2005 speech to the Roman Curia, firmly rejecting the hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture that has upset so many orthodox Catholics.

Take your partners for the Agnus Dei!

We are not sure who the lady in yellow biting her nails is: probably just an altar server modelling the latest in hot-weather vestments.