Since the promulgation of Traditionis Custodes, various bishops and certain cardinals have made it clear that they view the liturgical controversy not merely as a question of unification–that all the Church (at least the Latin Rite of the Church) should be using the same liturgical forms–but more so as a question of stamping out everything and anything that smacks of "the old ways." I won't bother to go hunt down citations because proving this isn't my point, here, but I have specific memories of reading on-the-record quotes by bishops (or letters to the priests in their diocese) that express that intention explicitly. In one case, it was almost word for word.
This had puzzled me. Even an extreme view in liturgical unification doesn't explain animosity toward the forms and symbols of the ancient rite. After all, the Novus Ordo Missae was not (according to Sacrosanctum Concilium in Vatican II) supposed to be a scrap of the old forms and replacement with completely new ones: It was supposed to be a renovation. In a renovation, some visible features of the thing being renovated are replaced, and others touched up, but the basic structure of the thing is kept intact. To be sure, this isn't quite what happened to the Mass, but my point is that the intentions expressed by Vatican II regarding the Mass did not include removing all vestiges of the ancient forms. Yet, some bishops and cardinals today seem so vehement in their opposition to the traditional Mass that they even want to make sure priests don't sneak "traditional-seeming" practices into their manner of saying the Mass according to the new rite. As I said, this had me puzzled. The attitude is incomprehensible when attempting to analyze it from the point of view of either a desire to see Vatican II fully implemented (something the current pontificate is making a lot of noise about) or of liturgical unification.
The other day, I was musing within my own mind about why I don't have any interest in attending the Eucharistic Congress that's to take place here in Indianapolis this July. It's part of the so-called "Eucharistic Revival" launched by the US Bishops. The problem is, I don't think very much will be revived, which is to say, I think the whole thing will be lukewarm. By "lukewarm," I don't mean to suggest that there will be any lack of fervor in those attending the conference or participating in the revival. Lukewarmness means something else when it comes to faith. In its treatment of the Laodicean Church, Revelation says "because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth."
The thing about being hot or cold is that it means having an effect on other things. Hot things make other things hot and cold things make other things cold. Being interiorly inflamed with sentiments of piety and devotion is a good thing. But it's not the same thing being "either hot or cold." Feeling a unified uplifting of spirit, with fellow Catholics, towards a contemplation of what it means that Jesus makes Himself truly present for our adoration and consumption in the Holy Eucharist is a good thing. But it's not being "either hot or cold."
After all the Eucharistic processing and congressing, everybody who is already in love with the Eucharist will (hopefully) be moreso. There will be a big celebration with serious talk about the Love of Jesus, proven to us in His Real Presence, and with great interior feelings of "Yay, Eucharist!" Then everybody who participated will go away with their own love and devotion strengthened and (hopefully) inflamed.
But this is not "either hot or cold."
What of those who don't love the Eucharist already? What about those who don't think too much about the Real Presence one way or the other, even though they attend Mass every week? What about those who don't even believe in the Real Presence of Jesus? They feel perfectly comfortable joining the line and going up for their "wafer." They see it as a wonderful symbol of communion with those around them, or whatever, and the form of the Mass does nothing to discourage that. These people aren't going to participate in the revival. They aren't going to be inflamed by the procession and the congress and whatever other revival plans the US bishops have in mind. Maybe a few will be pulled into a more intentional relationship with Jesus in the Eucharist through a parish mission. Maybe someone might come back to their parish and champion the start of an annual 40-hours devotion, which might touch a few other people. But, for the most part, the Catholics in the United States are not going to be changed by the so-called revival. The revival will be lukewarm, not "hot or cold."
To me, this is not a real revival.
So what would a "real" Eucharistic revival look like? Things would change. A "real" Eucharistic revival would cause the week-to-week (and day-to-day) feel of liturgical life to be different in the parishes and in the behaviors of Catholics who didn't participate in the processions or attend the congress. For example, a true Eucharistic revival might involve the U.S. bishops getting rid of the practice of receiving Communion in the hand and returning to the ancient and long-standing practice of receiving on the tongue. A true revival might encourage the use of Communion rails for those churches that have them. The bishops could even really show their commitment to revival by establishing a nation-wide fund (funded by special donations) to help defray the costs of installing Communion rails in those churches without them, and even re-architecting some, as needed, to make the Communion rail concept "work." A real Eucharistic revival might encourage the offering of Mass ad orientem.
These three things alone (no more Communion in the hand, use of Communion rails, and Mass offered ad orientem) would do more to revive Eucharistic awareness out of its current lukewarm state in the Church than any amount of processing and congressing.
Obviously, if these changes were made, people already in love with the Eucharist would find in them a new way to express that love—in both bodily posture and mental contemplation. It's not unlikely that some (perhaps many, who knows?) who lukewarmly believe or are inclined to believe in the Real Presence will, through these new modes of reverence, be led to a deeper, more contemplative understanding of the Eucharist, and a more intentional relationship with Jesus. It might wake them up into thinking, "Wow, this stuff is real! I should change how I'm approaching it. Maybe I should get to Confession, or something!" OK, not that simplistically, but the point is, these are changes that could be called "hot or cold."
On another side of that same coin, the changes identified above would probably push a lot of the "non true believers" away, and they would stop attending Mass altogether. One might initially think this is a bad thing, but in fact it would be better for such people if they did stop attending Mass, for at least they would then stop receiving Communion. Saint Paul warns that those who receive Communion without discerning (with the eyes of Faith) the Body (of Christ in the Eucharist) are "eating and drinking condemnation upon themselves." It's better for a non-believer to stay away from Mass than to receive Holy Communion repeatedly.
This last thought got me to thinking more specifically about the idea of non-believers dropping out if the old practices were revived, and I started to think a little more about exactly why they would drop out. To someone who doesn't actually believe in the Eucharistic Real Presence, the old practices–Communion on the tongue while kneeling at the Communion rail in a Mass offered ad orientem–would not only seem pointless: They would be offensive. Keep in mind, we're talking about people who believe in God and believe in worshiping God, even if they don't believe everything the Church has taught about God or about how to worship Him. To such people, the idea of showing this deep, specific reverence for what is really just a piece of bread would be offensive. Indeed, it would as offensive as the worship of the Pachamama idols in the Vatican gardens was to faithful Catholics.
And it should be. As a Catholic Church, we should be hot or cold, affecting those who are near us or who observe us. We should come off rather offensive (in our practices–never in our personal interactions) to those who don't share our belief in the Real Presence, while being sweet and attractive to those who do or who are inclined to. This belief in the Eucharistic Real Presence, this discernment of the Body through the eyes of Faith, should make all the difference in how one reacts to the Catholic manner of treating the Eucharist. For that to happen, we need to treat the Eucharist the way Jesus deserves to be treated. Not just in a procession on public display, but every moment we're in the Eucharistic Presence in a church, and especially in the context of the Holy Mass.
While reflecting on this, I recalled my confusion and dismay over the modern antipathy of some bishops and cardinals (and, it would seem, even of the current pontiff and some of those in his curia) towards the Traditional Latin Mass–and, indeed, towards all things traditional-looking regarding the Mass: It's as if the Traditional Latin Mass is offensive to them.
Perhaps it is.