In fact, one of the most notable things about the destruction is that it was accomplished with great speed and violence in a very short time. It takes years to build a Gothic cathedral, or even a beautiful parish church. It takes minutes to smash an altar or tear out a communion rail. For the Catholic faithful, forms, rites, and rituals of venerable age, developed organically and in a real sense "handed down" as gifts of the Church for more than a thousand years (some nearly two thousand years old) were changed radically by liturgical experts in committee. And by "experts", I mean by those who claimed the term, much like global warming experts have claimed their exalted status.
Speed. That is what was necessary. Why? Because the changes made to the Mass and the architecture of sacred spaces, not to mention the nuancing of traditional Catholic doctrinal formulations, would never have been accomplished had these come as a result of the normal process of things Catholic-- had these taken the time to develop organically, to be desired by the faithful and justified in the light of Tradition and prudential considerations.
Speed was needed; it was a blunt force weapon. Take a 1,500 year old Mass and simply remove it. It's there one day and gone the next. The altar ripped from the wall, or replaced with the "table of plenty". Shock and awe. The only problem is that the shock of these changes did not produce awe. They weren't designed to. They were designed to elevate the banal. They were designed to desacralize and make vulgar the mysteries of faith.
Once the damage was done, and the seminaries, convents and churches were denuded of their doctrinal, human and architectural beauties, it was clear that the Church was in decline. Of course, the Church will exist to the end of time, and cannot ever be defeated. Yet it was not only down in temporal terms. The faith of her members also went through a kind of desert. In this Octave of Pentecost (which by way of fitting illustration no longer exists in the new calendar) I would point to the words of Christ Himself:
He that shall drink of the water that I will give him shall not thirst for ever. But the water that I will give him shall become in him a fountain of water, springing up into life everlasting. (John 4:13b-14)
All of which leads me by a very long route (as usual) to my point. It is time to celebrate the return of the classical forms of Mass and the other sacraments. It is time to celebrate what makes us Catholic. As I said in an earlier post, why should the celebration of the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite be a matter that seems so embarrassing that it must be hushed up, as though one saw their grandfather going to a nightclub? Why do faithful Catholics have to tip-toe around modernism and its adherents, whether they are in parishes or rectories?
Or should we just pretend that the Extraordinary Form is for those crackpots who are (to paraphrase someone famous) bitter, clinging to their [Mass] and religion?
The Pope has spent the five years of his Pontificate calling for priests to be formed precisely in this way. For the traditional Mass to come back into the life of every parish precisely in this way. For faith and liturgy to support and enrich each other precisely in this way. For the faith we profess and the liturgy we pray to inform our lives, and our culture, in precisely this way.
But if this restoration of faith, liturgy and culture continues to be ignored in the Catholic press and in Catholic rectories, is it any wonder it remains unrealized in Catholic homes?