From a reader…
Our Latin Mass Community has no canonical status in the diocese. The FSSP has permission to be here, and we share (not rent as some communities do) the parish with the “Vatican II Congregation” (that’s how the pastor of the parish refers to themselves in relation to us). We have repeatedly asked the bishop for our own parish, but the answer is always no.
The past couple of years have become frustratingly painful. Our priest is forbidden from hearing confessions in the confessional on Sundays any time before noon (and yes, it’s strictly enforced). He’s not permitted to make holy water according to the Roman Ritual for parishioners, we are absolutely forbidden from giving the FSSP donations on church property and now the pastor of the parish has taken away our Tabernacle Veils (yes, they are ours, they belong to one of our vestment sets. They were using them instead of their old ugly polyester Tabernacle veils).
Below is a copy of the letter our priest sent the pastor asking for an explanation for why he wants our priest and altar boys to remove the Tabernacle veil after Mass (all of whom feel “very very uncomfortable doing so), which went in answered followed by our pastor’s note to our priest about taking away our Tabernacle veil.
I feel like this is the last straw for me. I have tried to be patient, giving the pastor the benefit of the doubt, but I feel like some sort of concrete action is necessary. To me, removing the Tabernacle veil is the equivalent to saying Jesus is not in the Tabernacle. This pains me. What would you suggest?
Okay, I read the attached correspondence, including the pastor’s … response.
First, let me say that the pastor of the parish is the pastor of the parish. Right? No matter how thick or weird or whatever a pastor might be, his is the juridical (if not moral or intellectual) authority.
Bottom line: He has power and you don’t. Liberals always work this way: they dominate and oppress.
What to do … what to doooo… what to doooooo….?
Watch preschool children play together. This, along with watching a four-way stop intersection, provides insight into our human nature.
Our nature has been wounded because of original sin. Even among the baptized, the effects of original sin remain. We have strong tendencies toward selfishness.
Watch young children color with crayons. We will see fights break out, tantrums thrown because Becky uses the sky blue crayon that Jeremy was just using. It doesn’t matter that Jeremy doesn’t need the sky blue crayon anymore. The fact that he was using it makes it his, and no one else has the right to it.
Mary, meanwhile, hides the brick red crayon. She doesn’t plan on using it, but she just doesn’t like the color and doesn’t want anyone to use it.
Meanwhile, Ryan peeled the label off of Derek’s burnt umber crayon, thinking it will help Derek color better. Derek, however, doesn’t want the label peeled off, and begins crying.
Katie, who has no direct interest in the fight between Derek and Ryan, nonetheless steps in to take Derek’s side.
Mom comes in and takes all the crayons away.
Most of us grow up, and learn how to get along.
We come to realize (usually some time before adolescence sets in) that we have to learn to play well together. This requires sharing. This requires a degree of tolerance of the likes and dislikes of others.
Some people never quite grow up to learn these lessons.
Some, apparently, even go on to become pastors of “Vatican II Congregations.”
Sadly, unless the bishop steps in to give him a Time Out In The Corner™, I suspect he’ll keep playing silly, childish games.
Perhaps the best thing to do, considering the circumstances, is to take the veils down after Mass, and to put back the ugly polyester ones. Then have the priest take the good veils (and vestments and anything else purchased exclusively by the EF community for their own use) with him to prevent further game playing.
… pray that the pastor grow up.
And if you are ever in doubt about the fact of Original Sin, just sit and watch a four-way stop intersection for a while… or children.