The Fallout

News drifted from nearer the west coast: TLM restricted. 

There were, of course, lightning-fast reports from England and America: bishops quick to chide or swift to bless. But matters in Scotland are being settled more slowly, hopefully with a good deal of thought and even more prayer. Those who have the most to lose are reluctant to say much in public. Nobody wants a kind bishop punished for his goodness or a craven one rewarded for his ... compliance. 

I got the message while on my way to the physiotherapist. There was fallout there, too, of a milder kind. I must stop typing on my laptop. I must buy a new ergonomic desk chair. I must do my arm-strengthening exercise. My physio doesn't want me to keep coming in. She wants me to get better. 

Unlike the new restrictions on the TLM, these instructions were to help and heal. 

As nothing glues together a community like rejection from the outside, traditional Catholics are likely to become even more united with each other. This could be bad as well as good, for we run the risk of becoming insular and overly eccentric, and thus unattractive to Catholics seeking respite from the baby-talk homilies the camp priests, the bullying lay ministers, and congregations' self-worship. 

"Body of Christ, Glenda!"

"Ay-MEN, Tracy!" 

I hope, therefore, that we have the grace and the hope to sing the Te Deum as we leave our old churches and find refuge where the TLM is allowed. In Scotland, this could be quite nice, even, as new young people mix and mingle, bringing friends or girlfriends from different universities (despite their chaplains' screams). There will probably be more weddings and then more babies, and our numbers will grow even more. 

Our cups will flow over, and eventually even the pandemic will end, and I will be able to serve after-Mass tea once again.   

Update: Meanwhile, in Argentina....