Cosmic Mystery Vs. Cosmic Horror

Throughout the last year I have found myself drawn into the writings of some of the masters of horror, particularly those from the 19th century and early 20th Century. These authors include Robert E. Howard, Arthur Machen, Ambrose Bierce, Saki and of course H.P. Lovecraft. The stories told intrigue me greatly. One of the greatest intrigues was that the really didn't horrify me. Now to be fair their are some stories that make my flesh crawl but horror, such as I remember as a child, I have not encountered in their work. 

Just recently I finished an essay by H.P. Lovecraft, Supernatural Horror in Literature. In this essay is outlined much of the developement of horror especially from the 18th century through Lovecraft's own time. But there is a line in it that particularly struck me, "It may well be remarked here that occult believers are probably  less effective than materialists in delineating the spectral and the fantastic, since to them the phantom world is so commonplace a reality that they tend to refer to it with less awe, remoteness, and impressiveness than do those who see in it an absolute and stupendous violation of the natural order." I would not consider myself an occultist and admit that my dealing with those subjects have been primarily through religious authors who warn against such practices. I believe then that the failure of much of this horror  to make an impression on me is a result of being religious. 

I knew the story of Adam and Eve and of the temptation by satan before I was five. St. Michael the Archangel has been a friend and intercessor to me from time before my remembrance. That there are cosmic forces around us that defy our definitions is no real surprise to me but rather an exploration in that deep mystery which I have played in since my youth. The horror that strikes me in these writings is that many of the authors refuse to allow any good cosmic powers. Lovecraft's characters mostly end up in a madhouse shocked by the horror that they have seen. The catholic saints ponder in their hearts the mystery they have witnessed.

St. Anthony of the Desert (circa A.D. 300) and St. John Vianney (A.D. 1786-1859) both battled with demons who physically manifested themselves. Exorcism of demons has had a place throughout the bible and even Jesus and the Apostles exorcised demons. There are still cases of exorcism throughout the world today. But these are just the showy examples of man's interaction with the supernatural.

Far more important to me is the reality of Divine Providence. I have visited New York City once. I was there for three days. On Monday morning we went to see the World Trade Center site which is a tourist area. As we turned the corner to arrive at the site we walked into a friend of mine from seminary and his family. When you start considering the odds of that encounter it boggles the mind. If they had been heading toward a coffee shop in the other direction or if we had missed the subway train and had taken the next train, that encounter would have never happened.

Authors cannot get away from Divine Providence. In every story I have read the author acts as a maker of providence. Only some chance encounter or a specific meeting sets in motion the entire set of events and without which the entire story would not exist. Some authors act as an antagonistic worker of providence but the thread of providence is still there.

Mystery is how the Christian explains it, but when someone, who has no idea of a good God, encounters these same themes, they encounter horror. 

In Defense of the Low Mass

I do not normally attend the Extraordinary form of the Latin Mass (aka the Tridentine Mass), but I do have a great love and respect for it. Most people I speak to about the Extraordinary form talk about how they enjoy the music and rites used for the High Mass. I do love those things, but I actually prefer the Low Mass. I love the Low Mass primarily for two reasons; the mystery and the silence.

The documents of the Second Vatican council call for a full, active (or actual depending on the translation) participation of the laity in the Mass. Keeping that in mind let us consider the Mass. The Mass is the Rite in which we celebrate the sacramental Mystery of the Eucharist. Mystery in the sacraments is not the same as in a mystery novel. In a mystery novel there is a specific mystery which must be understood and then solved. The mystery of a sacrament cannot be understood or solved, just deepened. Many people will say that they enjoy knowing what is going on in the english Novus Ordo Mass, but no one can know what is going on in Mass. The Church speaks of the Mass as a re-presentation of the mystery of Christ's death on Calvary. The Mass has been described as a participation in the Liturgy of Heaven that St. John describes in the book of Revelation. In the Eucharist, the Church believes that Jesus Christ is present under the form of Bread and Wine, as he said at the last supper, "This is my Body, This is the Cup of the New Covenant in my Blood". These are not things to say, "I understand", but rather, "I enter in to this mystery". It takes effort to follow the Low Mass in the Missal. To keep pace, and to enter into the prayers demands full attention and  active participation. As the priest whispers the prayers, the mind naturally feels drawn into a mystery, a secret, and a thing not easily known. In that way the Low Mass does feel like a mystery novel. The priest and the alter server are participating in an act that is secretive and we are attempting to break into that mystery without disturbing it. 

The silence in the low Mass, is for me, the best part. Blessed John Paul II in the Theology of the Body, speaks of the love between a man and his wife, as an image of the Trinity. There is an aspect of that love I want to engage, and that is silent whispers. When I am with friends I am usually engaged in conversation, when i am praying privately I usually pray in silence, but with my wife I have both times of conversation and of silence. I also sometimes have a whispered conversation with her, and that is an intimate conversation. The silent whisperings of the Low Mass convey a similar intimacy for me. When I receive the Eucharist, I am receiving Christ into myself, not in a sexual way, but in a profoundly unitive manner. While the Low Mass is still public worship it becomes at the same time personal and contemplative. 

I am quite thankful for our Holy Father Benedict XVI for the permissions granted in the Motu Proprio allowing wider usage of the Extraordinary form. I encourage everyone to attend the Extraordinary Form Mass at least a few times (expect to be confused the first several times if you've never been before, but persevere) in order to better understand even the Novus Ordo Mass. Go and experience the music and the beautiful liturgy of the High Mass, but do not neglect the small wonders of the Low Mass.

In omne, Deo Gratias.