Why I Am (Only Sorta) a Traditionalist

Recently the great Phil Lawler wrote a provocative piece titled “Why I am not (quite, yet) a Traditionalist.” It’s a title that’s sure to get clicks, but unlike most clickbait titles, this one leads to an article worth reading. So with apologies to Mr. Lawler for adapting his title in the hopes of also getting clicks, I want to lay out why, unlike him, I do consider myself a traditionalist, but, like him, I also have caveats.

First, I should note the problem with labels. Every label—whether traditionalist, conservative, progressive, or whatever—will always fall short. We’re all individuals, and even if we align with a certain grouping of people, we’ll inevitably have differences in views on a whole host of subjects. One of the frustrations (among many) of internet discourse is how quickly people make assumptions about your beliefs based on the group to which they assign you. Too often we assume groupthink when it rarely exists fully in anyone.

That being said, it’s fair to label me a traditional Catholic, i.e., a traditionalist. I myself claimed the label more than six years ago. 

When most people think of traditionalists, they think of their devotion to the traditional Latin Mass, and this applies to my own views. I love the TLM. Actually, that’s an understatement. I believe the TLM is about as close to perfection as humanly possible. I also strongly believe that the Church’s current crisis cannot and will not be overcome until the TLM becomes the normative liturgy of the Latin rite again. How exactly that should occur is less clear to me. Imposing it on the Church from on high—as was done with the Novus Ordo Mass—would seem an imprudent strategy doomed to fail. A successful plan would more likely be its gradual and organic implementation over time. However it happens, though, I’m convinced it will happen, and the sooner the better.

But as any traditional Catholic will tell you, the TLM is only the entry-point, the beginning, of being a trad. What you find as you dig deeper into the traditional Catholic way of life is a rich and profound spirituality that satisfies the soul and an understanding of tradition and Church history that satisfies the mind. 

When I first started regularly attending the TLM in 2011, I was introduced to spiritual writers unfamiliar to me in two previous decades as a Catholic. Unsurprisingly they all dated to before the 1960’s. They had a profound effect on how I viewed God, the spiritual life, and Catholicism in general. Almost all the spiritual books I read before this were from the post-conciliar period, and while I do not question the authors’ intentions or love of Christ, they couldn’t hold a candle to these older works. 

One case in point: Divine Intimacy, written in the early 1950’s by Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, OCD. This collection of daily spiritual writings, based on the traditional calendar, was like nothing I had read previously. I have read and re-read it numerous times and I always find it spiritually challenging  and uplifting. And the contrast to more recent spiritual works is undeniable. In fact, earlier this year I picked up a daily meditations book that was written a few years ago and gave it a try. Again, I trust that the author was sincere and a faithful Catholic, but it was, frankly, superficial in comparison to Divine Intimacy (which I returned to after a short time). Modern spiritual writers pale in comparison to the old masters, and I believe a primary reason why is that they aren’t being spiritually fed by the TLM.

My traddiness also flows from my interest in Church history (it was in part studying the early Church that led me to become Catholic in the early 1990’s). In my early years as a Catholic I couldn’t help notice that things had abruptly changed in the Church in the late 20th century. Historical practices that had been consistent for centuries were either abandoned or radically changed. Beliefs that were held by all Catholics everywhere were now open to debate. In becoming Catholic from Protestantism I willingly embraced Tradition as a true means by which we receive Divine Revelation, yet so many of the traditions that helped pass on that grand Tradition had been jettisoned left and right. Yet in the traditional Catholic world, these traditions are encouraged and embraced, with the understanding that they are the means by which we live out the Tradition handed on to us by our forebears. 

Another reason I’m a traditionalist is that I came to recognize the post-conciliar period for what it truly is: a disaster. In my early years as a Catholic I engaged in all the conservative Catholic coping mechanisms: we just need to read the council documents; the Spirit of Vatican II was co-opted; we are experiencing a New Springtime; a Reform of the Reform is needed; and our younger priests will save us. Yet I eventually realized that all of these arguments fall flat, and the proof is all around us. In spite of the efforts of one of the most charismatic pontiffs in history (John Paul II) and one of the most intelligent (Benedict XVI), no recovery of the “true” Vatican II occurred. In spite of some small good news on the convert front lately, the reality is that the Church has been losing members for decades, and there’s no real sign that this exodus is slowing down any time soon—nor is there any serious plan being proposed to stop it (although plans to accelerate it, like “synodality” abound). Yet all the successful pre-conciliar methods of evangelization are discarded as obsolete.

With these views, it would be silly of me to deny being a traditionalist. If it walks like a duck and all that. And yet I admit to some hesitation to fully embrace that title, a hesitation that’s grown in recent years. So why do I call myself “only sorta” a traditionalist?

You might think that here I’ll note the stereotype of the mean online trad, and my desire to be disassociated from such uncharitable behavior. But you’d be wrong. First, a lot of what is called “toxic” behavior is actually unapologetic and bold defense of the Catholic Faith, and it’s generating converts. Further, I’ve been involved with internet communities since the late 1990’s, and I’ve found that every single one of them has jerks. Although trads have the reputation of being obnoxious online, some of the nastiest comments directed at me have been from proud Novus Ordo-attending Catholics. Trads do not have a monopoly on sinners. My concerns about modern traditional Catholicism (yes, I realize that’s an oxymoron) run less superficial.

First, it’s simply not a natural state of being Catholic to be in constant conflict with the hierarchy. I realize there has been one historical instance when this was necessary (4th century Arianism), and we may very well be in such a period now, but we need to recognize how discordant it is. As Catholics, our default should be acceptance of what the hierarchy teaches and practices, yet for traditionalists, it’s become the opposite: literally everything said by the pope and the bishops is held in suspicion. Even when the pope says something faithful or just innocuous,articles from trad sites explaining why what he said was actually heretical and awful pop up like mushrooms after a spring rain. This is not spiritually healthy. To be clear, I’ve personally written plenty of articles criticizing popes and bishops, so I’m not arguing that we shouldn’t engage in criticism. What I’ve seen far too often, however, is a critical spirit that’s contrary to Catholic spirituality (especially as expressed by all those pre-conciliar spiritual masters I was praising). Note that I don’t exempt myself from this critique: one of the things I’ve realized over the past year and a half is that constant criticism, even if every single instance is factually correct, causes overall harm, both to individual souls and the Church Militant.

Following from this problem are the too-frequent instances of outright hatred for the pope. This of course flourished in the traditionalist world with Pope Francis, who did so much to deserve righteous anger, but then it automatically transferred to Pope Leo, almost from the moment he walked out onto the loggia. While I believe that Pope Leo has been disappointing in a number of ways and merits constructive criticism at times, too many traditionalists assumed he was “Francis 2.0” from the outset and refused to give him the benefit of the doubt—a benefit that should be automatic for a Catholic toward a pope until overwhelming evidence proves there is no longer any doubt. 

Yes, we can and should criticize pontiffs; “popesplainers” can be as harmful to the faith as pope haters. Yet we trads need to recognize that constant criticism has a negative impact, even when every instance of criticism is accurate. The drumbeat of negativity leads to hatred of its subject: the Vicar of Christ. Yes, we should criticize when souls are in jeopardy, but we’re not required to respond to every small infraction as if we’re reliving the Arian crisis. Prudence dictates we should pick our battles more carefully, and even praise the pope when he rightly deserves it. 

Another area that makes me “only sorta” a traditionalist is the common and increasingly strident opposition to the Jews found in traditionalist communities. Now I myself have been called a “bitter anti-semite” because of my opposition to the government of the modern state of Israel, so I’m no Zionist (in fact, I believe Zionism to be a heresy). But there’s a distinction to be made between those who oppose the modern political entity of Israel and those who suggest, or even outright state, that Jews control the world and are the primary cause of most of today’s problems. Sadly, too many of those in the latter group are also traditionalists (although I will note that the two most public figures in that camp—E. Michael Jones and Nick Fuentes—are decidedly not traditionalists). 

The most distasteful example of this delusion of Jewish control is conspiracy theories intended to deny the reality of the Holocaust and to defend Adolf Hitler. In spite of the fact that Catholic heroes such as St. Maximilian Kolbe, Servant of God Therese Neumann, and Dietrich von Hildebrand (ironically a godfather of the traditional movement) were adamantly opposed to Nazism and considered it demonic to its core, too many trads today are flirting with pro-Nazi views in opposition to the Jewish people. For example, traditionalist priest Fr. James Mawdsley and his followers have suggested that the Nazi gas chambers were not used to kill Jews, in spite of overwhelming eyewitness and other evidence. When pushed, many will simply say they are “just asking questions,” but it’s clear from their line of inquiry that they wish to downplay or even deny the Holocaust happened.

It’s important to note the reason for this denial. Since the time of the Holocaust, there has arisen throughout the world—and throughout the Church—an attitude that one cannot criticize Jews for any reason whatsoever. Any such criticism is the first step, so the argument goes, to another Holocaust. That’s ridiculous and, further, has led to a special status for Jews, one that is (understandably) resented by a growing number of people. Yet denying historical truths is a reactionary, and decidedly non-Catholic, way to respond. Instead we must recognize the reality of the past while defending the truth that everyone is a sinner and can do evil, including modern Jews. And we should never downplay the importance of working to convert the Jewish people to Catholicism. 

In line with conspiracy theories about the Holocaust, there’s also a noticeable rise of conspiracy theories in general within trad circles, particularly since Covid. As I noted in a recent podcast, there’s good reason for being more open to conspiracy theories these days, but now chasing conspiracies is a cottage industry in which traditional Catholics seem to be the most eager consumers, no matter how outlandish the theories are. And more importantly, accepting these theories at face value is becoming the entry fee for being a “real trad,” creating a Gnostic-like barrier to evangelization.

This attitude is contrary to the outlook of one of the most exalted and quoted saints in traditionalism: St. Thomas Aquinas. The Angelic Doctor showed that Catholics do not check their reason at the door, yet many of today’s traditionalists are embracing theories that have zero basis in reality (such as denying the moon landing, a popular conspiracy theory among traditionalists for some reason).

Finally, I am “only sorta” a traditionalist because of my attitudes toward the Novus Ordo Mass. As I’ve already mentioned, I believe the TLM is the way forward; however, I don’t subscribe to the wholescale rejection of the Novus Ordo as many traditionalists do. I see attempts to make the NO more reverent as good steps in the right direction, not “cosplaying” at tradition as some argue. Also, doing things like calling the new Mass the “Bogus Ordo” is immature and an uncharitable denigration of what is a legitimate rite of the Church. 

In this light, this is why I’m strongly opposed to the Society of St. Pius X’s attitude toward the new Mass. I’ve defended the SSPX many times in the past, and overall I think it is a force for good in the Church, yet its view that one does not have to attend the Novus Ordo, even if it is the only way to fulfill the Sunday obligation, is plainly wrong, and spiritually dangerous. While the SSPX doesn’t outright deny the validity of the Novus Ordo, this teaching clearly creates an attitude among traditionalists that the Novus Ordo doesn’t “count.” 

So am I a traditionalist or not? As I noted at the start of this article, labels are always insufficient to describe the totality of a person’s views. I am definitely a traditionalist by any reasonable use of that term, and yet I can’t help including some important caveats. These caveats are based on attitudes that have (legitimately) attached to the label traditionalist, but they are attitudes I personally find contrary to a healthy practice of Catholicism. 

So ultimately I am a proud traditionalist. Sorta.