This is pretty bad. Let’s call it Reason #9577 for Summorum Pontificum.
This is the ordination of a man of Tamil origin in the Diocese of Rodez, in France.
One must ask how it was that they thought that some of these choices were good choices. From the beginning, when the ever so serious bishop is waving that coconut, or whatever the hell it is, around, I got the creeps. The creeps were not helped by the chant by the woman that followed, I think after the “Eucharistic Prayer”. I don’t know what she is singing, but I’ll bet you it has nothing to do with the Roman Rite.
About the singing. I don’t mind the style so much, although I wonder if the idiom is pagan. I remember during the beatification Mass of Mother Teresa, when old Marini was in charge and was running inculturated-amok, a priest from India next to me (in the press corps area on the braccio) got angry. He explained that the melody and gestures they were using in their liturgical dance rubbish had un-Christian connotations. Music and styles have connotations. They change only very slowly. Inculturation is tricky. We must always give logical priority to what the Church has to give to the world.
A screenshot. Note the spot.
This screams for a caption.
I am reminded of my very first day of seminary (aka The Pit, aka The 7th Circle of Hell).
In our first team-taught “Liturgy Colloquium” class they had us stand in a circle, gave us tulip bulbs (“John, receive the tulip bulb of life!”… “Thanks… Jim.”), asked us to name them – I am not making this up – and then had us march out as the “team” chanted a kind of mantra to Mother Earth and the Bringer of Light. This class was led by a priest who would eventually leave the priesthood after shaking up with woman on the faculty, after which they lived on her VA benefits from her MIA Vietnam vet husband. This same priest, the vice-rector, would eventually throw me out of seminary when he took over after the rector’s heart attack. A couple days before we had had a rather acrimonious dispute in class when he explicitly denied the doctrine of transubstantiation.
That’s what this style of “ritual” or whatever the hell it was reminded me of.
I think I named mine “Bob”, or something exceptionally meaninful like that.