07-23-2026, 09:03 AM
XXI. The Simplicity of Protestant Worship.
— Simplicity is a good thing, indeed, when kept within certain limits. However, Protestant worship cannot, by any means, be called simple; it is hollow and naked.
Have you ever entered a Protestant temple? Oftentimes, it is one of those ancient churches which have been raised to the honor of the good God, and it is harrowing to see what the cold and narrow-minded heresy of Calvin has made of them. When a king falls, his palace becomes a house of no more significance than that of any citizen, and his throne a common chair. By expelling from churches usurped from us the King of kings, who deigned to dwell therein, the Protestants have desecrated them. They have razed the altars on which the Divine Sacrifice was offered. The images of the Blessed Virgin, as well as of patron saints, have been taken away. The confessionals, wherein innocence was preserved, and peace restored to the Christian, have been burnt, and four walls, a few benches, a chair, and a desk, behold all that is necessary to pay homage to the Creator of heaven and earth!
In the words of the Protestant Clausen, "Catholics consecrate the most wonderful productions of art to the ornament of churches, while Protestants shut themselves up within a temple devoid of all sorts of ornaments. This, however, does not prevent them from lavishing immense sums to ornament with decorations of art their private residences. Church music is looked upon by Catholics as a wholesome part of their religious solemnities; in Protestant countries music is made to resound everywhere but in churches."
The fact is, Protestants know full well what comfort is. They love and procure for their houses all that is comfortable and sumptuous; but naught for the house of the Lord.* It behoves, they say, that the utmost simplicity should characterize temples and all acts of religion. But it would be even more simple to dispense with temple and worship. To sleep, to drink, to eat, to attend to one's business, to live and die without being bothered by anything whatever, would it not be the perfection of simplicity?
However, we should not be surprised at this distressing and chilling nakedness of Protestant worship. Their temples are not sacred edifices, but only places of reunion. They even assemble, when they find it more convenient, either in a Casino, as in Geneva, or in a Theatre, as in New York, or in an Academy of Music, as in Boston; it is all the same to them. Should they take off their hats in entering the building, that is only from a habit of politeness, but not from any respect for the walls or benches.
Pastors wear no kind of sacerdotal vestments, and why should they? They are no priests, nothing must distinguish them from their co-religionists, and in fact the garment some of them throw over their black frocks appears to be greatly in contradiction with their principles.
We Catholics know very well that God has no need of pomp in his worship, and that it is only a want of our own heart. We know this well. But God had no need either of the magnificence of Solomon's Temple; he did not need the gold, incense, and myrrh, which was offered to him in the grotto of Bethlehem; but who would dare to affirm that those tokens of reverence and love were displeasing to him?
The majesty of worship raises our souls to God through the means of sacred ceremonies, and rivets on prayer the imagination which is so fleet and quick in wandering away. We are composed of soul and body, and our whole being must contribute to give glory to the Lord; our soul offers reverence, adoration, and love; but our senses contribute their part by the religious employment in which we occupy them in our churches, — an employment which both purifies and sanctifies them.
Divine worship is the expression of faith. The warmer faith is, the more splendid is the worship; according as faith is poor, the worship is naked. "Thus," says the Protestant writer quoted above, "the outward nakedness of non-Catholic Churches is truly in harmony with the state of the soul of the worshippers."
Leibnitz, a Protestant philosopher, writes that "he was not one of those, who, taking in no consideration human weakness, reject from divine worship whatever teaches the senses, under pretence that adoration is to be exhibited in spirit and truth." (Systeme Theologique, p. 107.)
Pustcuchen-Glanzow, another Protestant, adds: "In our temples, by dint of continually repeating that God must be adored in spirit and in truth, truth and spirit have disappeared altogether."
— Simplicity is a good thing, indeed, when kept within certain limits. However, Protestant worship cannot, by any means, be called simple; it is hollow and naked.
Have you ever entered a Protestant temple? Oftentimes, it is one of those ancient churches which have been raised to the honor of the good God, and it is harrowing to see what the cold and narrow-minded heresy of Calvin has made of them. When a king falls, his palace becomes a house of no more significance than that of any citizen, and his throne a common chair. By expelling from churches usurped from us the King of kings, who deigned to dwell therein, the Protestants have desecrated them. They have razed the altars on which the Divine Sacrifice was offered. The images of the Blessed Virgin, as well as of patron saints, have been taken away. The confessionals, wherein innocence was preserved, and peace restored to the Christian, have been burnt, and four walls, a few benches, a chair, and a desk, behold all that is necessary to pay homage to the Creator of heaven and earth!
In the words of the Protestant Clausen, "Catholics consecrate the most wonderful productions of art to the ornament of churches, while Protestants shut themselves up within a temple devoid of all sorts of ornaments. This, however, does not prevent them from lavishing immense sums to ornament with decorations of art their private residences. Church music is looked upon by Catholics as a wholesome part of their religious solemnities; in Protestant countries music is made to resound everywhere but in churches."
The fact is, Protestants know full well what comfort is. They love and procure for their houses all that is comfortable and sumptuous; but naught for the house of the Lord.* It behoves, they say, that the utmost simplicity should characterize temples and all acts of religion. But it would be even more simple to dispense with temple and worship. To sleep, to drink, to eat, to attend to one's business, to live and die without being bothered by anything whatever, would it not be the perfection of simplicity?
However, we should not be surprised at this distressing and chilling nakedness of Protestant worship. Their temples are not sacred edifices, but only places of reunion. They even assemble, when they find it more convenient, either in a Casino, as in Geneva, or in a Theatre, as in New York, or in an Academy of Music, as in Boston; it is all the same to them. Should they take off their hats in entering the building, that is only from a habit of politeness, but not from any respect for the walls or benches.
Pastors wear no kind of sacerdotal vestments, and why should they? They are no priests, nothing must distinguish them from their co-religionists, and in fact the garment some of them throw over their black frocks appears to be greatly in contradiction with their principles.
We Catholics know very well that God has no need of pomp in his worship, and that it is only a want of our own heart. We know this well. But God had no need either of the magnificence of Solomon's Temple; he did not need the gold, incense, and myrrh, which was offered to him in the grotto of Bethlehem; but who would dare to affirm that those tokens of reverence and love were displeasing to him?
The majesty of worship raises our souls to God through the means of sacred ceremonies, and rivets on prayer the imagination which is so fleet and quick in wandering away. We are composed of soul and body, and our whole being must contribute to give glory to the Lord; our soul offers reverence, adoration, and love; but our senses contribute their part by the religious employment in which we occupy them in our churches, — an employment which both purifies and sanctifies them.
Divine worship is the expression of faith. The warmer faith is, the more splendid is the worship; according as faith is poor, the worship is naked. "Thus," says the Protestant writer quoted above, "the outward nakedness of non-Catholic Churches is truly in harmony with the state of the soul of the worshippers."
Leibnitz, a Protestant philosopher, writes that "he was not one of those, who, taking in no consideration human weakness, reject from divine worship whatever teaches the senses, under pretence that adoration is to be exhibited in spirit and truth." (Systeme Theologique, p. 107.)
Pustcuchen-Glanzow, another Protestant, adds: "In our temples, by dint of continually repeating that God must be adored in spirit and in truth, truth and spirit have disappeared altogether."
"So let us be confident, let us not be unprepared, let us not be outflanked, let us be wise, vigilant, fighting against those who are trying to tear the faith out of our souls and morality out of our hearts, so that we may remain Catholics, remain united to the Blessed Virgin Mary, remain united to the Roman Catholic Church, remain faithful children of the Church."- Abp. Lefebvre