Usus Antiquior in Milwaukee

Photos from St. Stanislaus Oratory's website

Today, I attended noon mass at St. Stanislaus Oratory on Milwaukee's ever-active South Side. The church is under the watchful care of The Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest, and so the mass was offered in the extraordinary form. The more I become familiar with the usus antiquior, the more spiritually dependent I become on the beauty and richness of it all.

The beauty of this mass is found in the frequent stretches of silence, in the perpetual reverence that permeates the sacred space, and in the recurring yet faint whispers of ancient prayers uttered in Latin by a priest who, first and foremost, is noteworthy for his solemn attentiveness, a preoccupation even, to solicitously overseeing with an eagle's eye the ineffable mysteries taking place on the high altar. It's a sacred, mystical process that allows those in attendance to disentangle themselves from the web of the world's noises and distractions, and be swept up, rather caught up, like a wave in the sea or a strong gust of air on the open plains. I've noticed that with the old mass, there is a certain spiritual relaxation, a peace that sinks deeply in the soul. It is a quiet place to encounter God.

What set this liturgical experience apart? Simply put, there were no distractions. No jokes. No sideshows. No superfluous overtures. No obsequious "Welcome to such and such parish" from an obtrusive voice in the sanctuary before mass. No silly liturgical pantomiming. No blurring the line between priest and layman. No patronizing sermons. No schmalzy, effeminate hymns from an ersatz Peter, Paul and Mary wannabe ensemble. No soft-sofa Oprah-esque priest-parishioner kibitzing. I could go on. You know the drill at most parishes across America: No identifiable Catholic culture.

The alternative? Enter St. Stanislaus Oratory, and similar parishes and find: God's majesty. Captivating solemnity. Reverence. Timeless mystery. Transcendent awareness. Silent encounter. Seriousness. Captivating beauty. Sacramental awareness. Connection to past ages (and souls). Spiritual maturity. Manly priests and penitent faithful.

Critics gain a lot of mileage portraying the old mass as "so yesterday" and its adherents as quirky and hidebound to a bygone era. This criticism is not only totally inaccurate, but it is actually more aptly applied to those very critics of the old mass. The richness of the old mass is precisely found in its timelessness. It is emphatically not a dated thing of "so yesterday". It is, quite the contrary, so timeless and so ageless. The liturgical silly season of the past few decades, on the other hand, is what is truly "so yesterday", hackneyed and spent.

Of course, I am not referring to the legitimate novus ordo mass, but rather the countless abuses that have cropped up in the ensuing years after Vatican II. These abuses carry with them dated and worn-out trends and fads which have been forced onto the liturgy, despite admonitions from the Vatican. It is a rather refreshing experience to attend liturgy and to simply not have to worry about these things anymore.