I had to laugh at his description of Latin Mass at St. John Cantius in Chicago: "The sanctuary, behind a long communion rail, looked oddly barren because it lacked the modern altar on which a priest, facing the people, prepares the Eucharistic meal." Does this look barren? Or this?
He does understand why some people are happy about having more access to the traditional Mass. To wit:
They’re right that Mass can be listless, with little solemnity and multiple sources of irritation: parents sedating children with Cheerios; priests preaching refrigerator-magnet truisms; amateur guitar strumming that was lame in 1973; teenagers slumping back after communion, hands in pockets, as if wishing they had been given gum instead.(I have to say that if the Latin Mass ever comes to my parish, there will be no lack of parents sedating their kids with Cheerios. Father calls our church a "cry room with a tabernacle.")
This fellow doesn't like feeling left out. Fair enough. Let's make sure that good handouts are always available so the first-time visitor can stay apace. I'd appreciate that myself.
And he misses the "family meal" emphasis that has crept -- no, galloped -- into the liturgy since the 1960s. If he pays attention, though, and keeps an open mind, he's in for some wonderful surprises. Deep participation in the bodily and spiritual presence of the redemptive Christ is way better than a family meal, no offense to Mom. And no one says we can't go out together for brunch afterwards.