by Philippa Martyr

I was born in 1969, which makes me the same age as the new Mass. I have extremely faint memories as a very small child of some Latin still being used in the Mass, and of altar boys wearing the old-style square-neck surplices, and holding a paten under the chin of the (standing) communicants - this is in the long-lost days before Communion in the hand.

But mostly I was the Novus Ordo Kid. I was taught to confess in the new style, facing the priest (which I hated) and to receive my First Communion in the hand (followed by some liturgical dancing, which still makes me wake up in a cold sweat at night).

I was a bit frightened by the old Mass - a fear which I think came from lack of experience. It was something attended by rather odd people, or the very old. I think we may have stumbled in on one once by accident when I was very small, and it was dark, or something psychologically fascinating like that.

What brought me to it in my adult life? I like to think it was the grace of God, but it looks more like an accident - as the grace of God so often does. I knew of the Mass in Jolimont, WA, and my then-boyfriend was preparing to undertake his honours degree in anthropology of religion at the University of Western Australia. I suggested that he undertake a study of the small Jolimont congregation as a thesis topic. This was in 1992.

I had been fascinated by, and was extremely sympathetic to, the Lefebvrist movement. I felt powerfully the injustice of punishing Lefebvre when countless other bishops preached heresy from their own pulpits, and led souls to Hell with their own open disobedience. I did understand that Lefebvre's ordination of bishops without papal permission was wrong.

Yet I made sure that the Jolimont Mass was acceptable in the Archdiocese of Perth as fulfilling my Sunday obligation. This liturgical schizophrenia was probably the most memorable hallmark of my religious life in 1992. It's the old, old story - do you accept the validity of the Novus Ordo, or not? For a while there, in 1992, I didn't.

Powerful experience

One day, though, I had a powerful experience. I had gone to confession at my local parish church, Holy Rosary in Nedlands, and was sitting in front of the tabernacle. It struck me quite suddenly that, if I didn't accept the validity of the Novus Ordo Mass, I was sitting adoring a piece of bread.

This rocked me to the core. I had been intellectually able to deny the validity of the Novus Ordo, but when push came to shove, I couldn't accept the material consequences of such a position - namely, all those empty tabernacles.

I accept the validity of the Novus Ordo Mass. Mercifully, I have never been troubled by sedevacantism, as I am now and have always been a full-blooded supporter of the Pope and the Papacy. I may not always agree with him, but I obey him. But I made my choice then to attend the Latin Mass on Sundays rather than the Novus Ordo.

A word on this one - just because someone stops going to the Novus Ordo, and starts going to the Latin Mass all the time, doesn't mean that they deny the validity of the Novus Ordo. That's equivalent to saying that just because I don't attend Mass at one local church in preference to a church in another suburb, that means that I think the Mass at one of them is invalid. I go to the church in the other suburb because I find it's more conducive to worship, not because the Mass at the other one is invalid.

Anyway, over the next couple of years (1993-1994) I grew to love the Latin Mass more and more, as I got to know it better and better. My Latin Mass-going was strengthened by the work done in Western Australia by Fr William Fitzgerald O Praem, a Norbetine who said the Latin Mass in his

parish church in Bentley, WA. Under his gentle direction (and with his ample good humour) my friends and I learned to sing a Missa Cantata without being pelted with fruit by the congregation afterwards.

When I moved to Launceston, Tasmania in 1995, I went to the once-a-month Latin Masses then held at Deloraine, about a 40-minute drive away. I met wonderful Catholics who were a great support to me, and the Mass was a treat to attend, beautifully said by Fr Joe Medwin. I was also greatly strengthened by the visit from Fr Daniel Oppenheimer FSSP, from the Fraternity of St Peter, whose eloquent preaching and devout Mass were a source of inspiration to all of us.

But then, practically overnight, Fr Medwin was moved to the south of the state, and no priest who could say the Latin Mass was to replace him. The Archbishop, Eric D'Arcy, has been repeatedly petitioned to provide a licit Latin Mass in the north of the state.

Those who now wish to attend, drive on a four- to five-hour round trip once a month to Hobart to attend the only licit Latin Mass offered in the entire State. Others, after prayerful discernment - and I am one of these - decide to attend a Mass offered in the north of the state by a visiting priest from the Society of St Pius X.

I made this decision based on the above factors, and based on the fact that my own faith has been under attack over the past 18 months as never before. Wrestling with poor health and difficult working conditions, I found myself losing heart. I turned to the old Mass for comfort, and a rock to cling to, a truth which remains when all other things depart.

The choice I have been faced with lately is this: attend the Latin Mass when and where I can, or lose my faith. I attend the Latin Mass once a month on a weekday evening offered by a priest of the Society of St Pius X. He is a good, Catholic priest, loyal to the Pope, ordained before the split with Econe, and he is far more of a Catholic priest than most of the other priests I have met in this diocese. He travels for hours every week to meet the needs of his parishioners, who are scattered down the east coast of Australia, and he does so with tireless devotion and great kindness, bringing grace and high spirits with him whenever he visits.

Those who attend the old Mass said by this priest easily outstrip my fellow local Church community in their charity, obedience to the magisterium and the Papacy, and in their practical kindness. None of us has a schismatic intention, nor are we sedevacantists or troublemakers. We pray and hope that some peaceful and truly pastoral resolution will be found - perhaps the licit Mass will be restored; or perhaps a creative solution might be tried: like the Archbishop granting faculties to the visiting priest.

Yet while we wait for something to be done, more and more people are attending the SSPX Masses in Tasmania. These people are now branded by many local priests and laity as divisive schismatics who are out to destroy the Church in Tasmania.

Denial of suffering

I have a chronic illness, through the grace of God, which He has chosen that I live with. One of the problems with the modern Church is the denial of suffering as an integral part of one's spiritual development - while on the one hand we pay a lot more lip service to the marginalised, at the same time we tend to patronise them by not allowing for their spiritual development through their suffering. The old Mass is one of my most powerful aids in this direction, which means that I have a genuine and legitimate pastoral need of and desire for the old Mass. That need is sadly not being met by my diocese.

Nonetheless, I plod along with the local Church, and I am a member of the parish pastoral council at Sacred Heart Parish, Newstead, a Launceston suburb. I attend Mass there every Sunday - a Novus Ordo. I am planning to ask my parish council to consider placing a single kneeler at the front of the Communion queue, to the left of the priest, for those who wish to receive Holy Communion kneeling, as I and a number of others do personally.

It's an attempt to bring those who are devoted to the Sacrament a bit closer to what is called the 'mainstream' of the Catholic Church. The response I will get will be a real test of the virtues so often praised in the modern Church - tolerance, acceptance, willingness to change.

What has become more important to me over time has been my growing understanding of *lex orandi, lex credendi*. The loss of belief in the Real Presence - exemplified in Communion standing and in the hand, communicant intincturation, and lack of genuflection or adoration, as well as endless hymns about bread and wine - have all helped make the Mass a meaningless exercise for most people.

But for some of us, our faith is simply not strong enough for the Novus Ordo Mass. Some of us are weak and sinful, and need the solid, three-dimensional truths of the faith hammered at us in eternal language on a regular basis. My illness has led me to renew my faith in the salvific power of suffering and the duty to conform to the will of God. This is an element of Catholic faith sadly very much neglected in much modern worship and ritual, but the old Mass speaks loud and clear to the suffering and the neglected.

Bishops who have a true pastoral love of their flock must realise this - that many people don't go to the Old Mass to cause trouble, to show off, or to be bloody-minded; they do it to help them keep their faith alive

We have in the past justified any amount of liturgical abuse towards this end - so that people will still come to Mass, making it 'relevant' - so why can't we tolerate the Old Mass, when it makes the faith alive and relevant for those of us who attend it?

I go to the Latin Mass because it helps me assist in the Sacrifice and to adore my God. The Real Presence is like a beautiful diamond. You can have that diamond in a gold crown - the Old Mass - or a plastic crown - the Novus Ordo.

I prefer my crowns gold.

(Dr Philippa Martyr has a BA Hons and PhD in history from the University of Western Australia. She currently teaches at the University of Tasmania, and lives in Launceston.)

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