Bishop Martin, TLM, and the Great Liturgical Divide

As a member of Bishop Michael Martin’s flock, I feel compelled to speak from the heart about all that’s been unfolding lately. Understand, these are my thoughts. I am not here to debate or cause more division.

There’s been a lot of noise over the last week, especially following Bishop Martin’s decision to restrict the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) to a single location in the Diocese. This change, made in response to Pope Francis’ 2021 motu proprio Traditionis Custodes, wasn’t entirely unexpected—but it still came as a painful blow for many in the TLM community.

What’s added fuel to the fire is the leak of a draft diocesan liturgical document. The proposed guidelines touch on things like the posture of the faithful during Mass, the expectations for music and altar servers, and how Holy Communion is to be distributed. The response to this has been swift and, in some cases, severe.

Here are a few of my thoughts.

First, I’m not ready to condemn the man.

Every encounter I’ve had with Bishop Martin has been good. He’s struck me as kind, prayerful, and sincere. From what I can see, he’s trying to be faithful to the Holy Father’s directives and to promote unity in a diocese that’s already quite strong. That’s no small task.

At the same time, I grieve with my friends who love the Latin Mass and are struggling with this change. For many of them, the TLM is not just a preference—it’s been the spiritual home where they’ve encountered God most deeply. That grief is real and deserves to be acknowledged. But I’ve also seen how, for some (not all), deep devotion to one form of the liturgy can shift into a mindset that it’s the only valid or faithful way to worship. When that happens, it risks creating division instead of communion.

What I can say with confidence is that the Diocese of Charlotte is strong.

We’ve been blessed with many vocations, reverent liturgies, faithful priests, and laypeople deeply committed to living out their faith. That didn’t start with Bishop Martin—and it doesn’t have to end with him. I pray we don’t let liturgical disagreements distract us from what’s at the heart of the Mass: not a style, not an aesthetic, but the Eucharist.

Holiness is the goal. Not preferences. Not trends. Not even tradition, in and of itself. It’s union with Jesus in the Eucharist—and He is the same in both the Ordinary and Extraordinary Forms.

That said, I do hope Bishop Martin will make prudent, humble decisions moving forward. He’s been with us just over a year. These are big changes, and they require pastoral patience. My hope is that he’ll take the time to really listen to the heart of this diocese—because the Holy Spirit is alive, and He continues to work.

This whole situation has also challenged me spiritually. Every time I feel tempted to critique a bishop, a cardinal, or a decision from Rome, I try to pause and ask myself:

• Do I actually know the full story?

• Are the voices I’m listening to informed, or are they driven by bias or an agenda?

• Am I being drawn into division—or into deeper love for the Church?

• Most importantly: Have I brought it to prayer?

  
  

Living here, I’ve come to see that much of what’s being said about Bishop Martin online is incomplete or unfair. No, he’s not perfect—but neither am I. And he’s not the enemy. Maybe some things could have been handled better. Maybe communication could have been clearer. But I believe he’s trying to lead with fidelity, and that deserves our prayers more than our outrage.

Even the person who leaked the draft document—whoever they are—deserves our prayers. That act, no matter the motive, has deepened division in a time when we need unity and trust. Transparency is important. But so is charity.

Let’s also remember the universality of our Church. The Catholic Church includes 23 Eastern Catholic Churches, each with its own liturgical tradition, and all in full communion with Rome. Around the world, Catholic liturgy takes different forms, shaped by culture and history. That diversity doesn’t weaken the Church—it reveals her beauty and depth. We’re meant to worship together, not to compete over which form is “better.”

And bishops aren’t elected officials. They’re successors of the apostles—men entrusted by God and the Church to shepherd His people. That doesn’t mean we can’t ask questions or share concerns. But it does mean we owe them our prayers.

So that’s where I stand.

I have hope. Hope that this moment will not divide us, but purify us. Hope that our diocese will continue to grow in holiness. Hope that, even in the discomfort, we will be drawn deeper into the mystery of the Eucharist—where Christ remains the same, no matter the form.

Let’s pray for Bishop Martin. Let’s pray for those grieving this change. Let’s pray for our priests, for one another, and for the unity of our Church.

And above all, let’s keep our eyes fixed on Jesus—who is with us in every Mass, and who calls each of us to be saints.

-Brendan Gotta