1965 was a powerful year, not only because it was the apex of the civil rights movement but there was a quaint shindig dubbed the “Second Ecumenical Council of the Vatican” or, because the Pope likes to kick it street wise, “Vatican II.”
When this climatic symposium ended after its three-year run through FOUR pontiffs (from Pope Paul VI and ending with this guy named Karol Wojtlya), the ruling was basically all priests, bishops and cardinals working at the Vatican were able to wear jeans on Fridays.
This was one of the three largest events in Catholic history where you could say the Church woke up and smelled the 60s, with fashionable decrees such as [come on Catholics, say it with me]:
- Nostra Aetate – Where people that went to Catholic churches ANYWHERE were actually permitted to befriend other people, regardless of what church they attended. Yeah, permitted. Nice, eh?
- Dei Verbum – In other words, the guys gathered ’round and discussed the inerrancy and divine inspiration of the “Word of God”. That’s right. The apostles and disciples being led of God wasn’t enough, it took Vatican II to basically confirm what they wrote was good.
- Presbyterorum Ordinis – This decree focused on the “Order of the Priests”. You know, how they act and what they should do as a priest. Considering the bad string of PR since 1965, it seems the Pope may need to hold a “Vatican III” just for them.
Anywhoo, HERE’S THE STORY BEHIND THE POST.
Evidently, B16 misses those ‘swinging sixties,’ so he’s wanting to kick it Ol’ Skool. You see, as a young Joseph Ratzinger was sitting in a corner as an idle ‘theological consultant.’ Dating back to then, the man who would be Pope formed opinions and created preferences.
Serving the Eucharist was no exception. Now, MEMO to all Protestants: in a Catholic church, that’s not “just bread.” It’s a sacrament and transforms into a portion of God’s body when consumed. And that is a wafer best served prostrate and on bended knee.
That’s right. As if there wasn’t enough aerobic activity during mass, now B16 prefers his congregants to dawn the Geritol (or WD40, whichever works) for those creaky knees and THEN take communion.
WHEW! I knew there was a reason I begged my parents to visit a Baptist church those eons ago.