My Latin Stumble at Castel Gandolfo

I have always believed in the importance and necessity of using Latin in prayer—both private and liturgical. However, upon just recently returning from a pilgrimage to Italy, it has become more than a talking point or debated principle. I know basic prayers in Latin, but even so, I personally experienced how a lack of Latin can be a genuine stumbling block.

Allow me to first set the scene. I had the incredible opportunity to attend the Holy Father’s Angelus Address at Castel Gandolfo. We arrived two hours early, but the time passed incredibly fast. The anticipation was more of a preparation—various groups were praying the Rosary, chanting prayers, and so on. We were not simply “waiting” for the Holy Father. Eventually, the key moment came: I could pray with him—not by the spiritual union in prayer at home or sacramental union at Mass but by my own voice responding to the prayers spoken by his voice.

Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae…silence. For the overwhelming majority of the Angelus (especially at the parts where the Ave Maria isn’t being prayed), the crowds around me were silent. It seemed that nobody (including me) knew the full Angelus in Latin. Catholics from every nation under heaven (cf. Acts 2:5) were gathered before the successor of the apostle who first preached at such a universal gathering (cf. Acts 2:14-41); but regretfully, many could not unite in a common, vocal prayer with him.

This was a real-life test for the debates regarding the role of Latin in the modern Church. And in my view, it plainly and clearly defends the traditional verdict: Catholics (at least in the Roman Rite) must restore its use in ordinary devotion. Pope St. John XXIII issued the apostolic constitution Veterum Sapientia (1962), promoting and defending Latin, shortly before opening the Second Vatican Council. It has become largely forgotten and ignored, but two of its key points provide insight as to why it has not only been beneficial but proper for Catholics to know some Latin—especially in experiences like mine.

“It does not favor any one nation, but presents itself with equal impartiality to all and is equally acceptable to all.” Latin is as foreign to me as it is to the Italians, Ukrainians, and other Americans that were together at the same Angelus Address. No one today can truly “claim” Latin; rather, all must sacrifice something to use it—in this case, the comfort of the vernacular—for the sake of a greater unity. Praying in Latin, especially at international gatherings, is for the sake of charity and inclusion.

“It seems particularly desirable that the instrument of mutual communication be uniform and universal, especially between the Apostolic See and the Churches which use the same Latin rite.” John XXIII is speaking of magisterial documents and decrees here, but the principle still applies to prayer. St. Paul exhorts us to live in harmony, glorifying God with “one voice” (Romans 15:5-6). Prayer as “one voice” can indeed be spiritual, but there are moments that call for it to be audible (cf. Acts 4:24). It is most fitting to express this “one voice” in one language. The Holy Father cannot practically accommodate everybody’s vernacular language within an internationally mixed audience; he thus extends a universal invitation at the moment of prayer through Latin—once again, for the sake of charity and inclusion.

If I had known the Angelus in Latin, I would have understood the Holy Father’s words—not simply by knowing what prayer he was saying by recalling the English but in truly knowing the prayer for myself. The experience at Castel Gandolfo itself cultivates a closeness with him, since the Piazza della Libertà is much smaller than the beautiful yet sometimes overwhelming span of St. Peter’s Square. If I had known the Angelus in Latin, I would have been even closer by sharing his words—once again, not simply by recalling the English but by those words having been constantly on my mouth in my own prayer as a heart-filled meditation (cf. Psalm 19:14). Had all of us in the square known the Angelus in Latin, this experience of understanding and closeness mediated by an ancient language would not have only been with the Holy Father but also with one another.

To be abundantly clear, I am not suggesting or claiming that anyone who attended the address without knowing the Angelus in Latin sinned against charity or unity—or that their encounter with the Holy Father was a mere spectacle or shallow. The experience of hearing, seeing, and praying with the Holy Father was still powerful, real, and fruitful despite the language barrier. Nor am I suggesting that all papal addresses, preaching, and prayers should be in Latin. However, there was, nonetheless, a missed opportunity that should spark honest reflection—not out of embarrassment but out of a desire for learning.

At least here in the United States, the reality is that very few Catholics know basic prayers (Pater Noster, Ave Maria, etc.) or liturgical prayers (Gloria, Sanctus, Angus Dei, etc.) in Latin—and the Second Vatican Council explicitly taught that we should at least know the latter (cf. Sacrosanctum Concilium 54). This obviously creates a practical problem for cultivating a unity in the Church that transcends ethnic or national barriers. How can we be one if, when we are gathered, we are unable to pray together in one tongue?

There will most definitely be disagreements between so-called liberal, conservative, and traditional Catholics as to how much of the Church’s liturgical or devotional prayer should be in Latin or the vernacular. But at the very least, it should be unanimous that all (or at least Roman Rite) Catholics should know some prayers in Latin. Pope Benedict XVI expressed these sentiments: “The better-known prayers of the Church’s tradition should be recited in Latin… Nor should we forget that the faithful can be taught to recite the more common prayers in Latin” (Sacramentum Caritatis 62).

We will only learn these prayers when they are commonly recited at the local level in place of the vernacular. My experience at Castel Gandolfo reinforced for me that this is never a burden; rather, it is a preparation. When a local parish prays in Latin, the congregation is being formed to possess a deep catholicity in prayer—by their spirit and words. John XXIII had other relevant points that I did not develop here, but they all center on that universality of Latin. We must recover our Latin prayers so that when the occasion or inspiration arises, at home or abroad, we can proclaim the unity of the Church by offering one prayer in one voice in her ancient and universal language. As for me, I will prepare for a future Angelus.

Photo Credit: Stefano Costantino/EWTN News