A faithful reader wanted to share this, anonymously: his own thoughts about the controversial cappa magna, worn by Cardinal Llovera. Take a look:

It is not something we always recall, but the purpose of beautiful vestments, as Peter the Venerable reminded even Bernard of Clairvaux (and as Bernard admitted) is to remind the faithful not of how great the priest is but of the heavenly liturgy which our earthly liturgy represents. The heavenly liturgy is spoken of throughout the Old Testament (see Isaiah, Ezekiel, and the Psalms) and especially in the Book of Revelation, which depicts heaven as an eternal liturgy in which the faithful become Christ’s temple and worship him forever before the throne.

The bishop, as St. Cyprian and St. John Chrysostom tell us, is charged with representing Christ in his humility, in his judgment, in his mercy, and in his majesty. The ancient basilicas positioned the bishop’s throne in the center of the apse, with the deacons arrayed to either side representing the Lord with his twelve apostles on either side of him. Hence here, in a liturgical setting, we find the bishop representing Christ on the throne in a manner that recalls Isaiah’s vision of God dwelling with humans in his Temple:

“In the year that king Uzziah died I saw also the LORD sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple.” (Isaiah 6.1)

And then, in a line that ought to be familiar from the Mass, which is evoking the same image:

“Above it stood the seraphim: each one had six wings; with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he did fly. / And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory.” (Isaiah 6.2-3)

For as long as we give into a secular model, which associates the clothes with the man, we buy into a culture of pride and vanity in which clothes declare only personal greatness. Many within the Church are guilty of this at times (myself included), but we allow this view to triumph if we immediately call something pompous simply because it evokes a scene of majesty.

None of us have any reason to suspect the Cardinal’s sincerity. When he dons the vestments of Christ in glory, the Cardinal must know well, being a liturgical scholar, that he puts on spiritually the crown of thorns and the Cross. To us he must show the glory of God, while in his heart he must bear the weight of serving God. (Ratzinger makes the same point in his “Spirit of the Liturgy”).

So please: When we see something odd, let us ask _why_ it may exist and why it my have been maintained, and what spiritual benefit it may offer us. This needn’t be “embarrassing.” If this doesn’t speak to us, we ought to become more familiar with the scriptures so that, when we see a cappa magna (originally so long so that it would cover the horse while the bishop rode), we think not of secular princes but of the heavenly throne room and the crucified Lamb whom the bishop must strive always to represent, in poverty by his humility and in glory by his service at the liturgy.