Good post from And Sometimes Tea on rejection of Latin, and by extension, other stuff. Or was it rejection of other stuff, and by extension, Latin?
I've seen this attitude myself, in both of the parishes I've been a member of in the last decade. In the first, some of the older choir members were dismayed by a plan to sing more Latin at Mass–for them, Latin conjured up images of dark, silent churches, a priest with his back to the people, women forbidden from any participation other than membership in the Altar Society, etc. In the second, a gentleman spoke quite passionately to me about his dislike of the "old, traditional" music we were singing (most of it English) because he thought the young people would be driven away from the Church with all of that musty old stuff that wasn't "relevant" to their lives. I've also heard people praise some rather ugly modern hymn with "Oh, I'm so glad you sang that! I love that song–I've loved it for years!" and that sort of thing.
It will surprise no one that I think these attitudes are entirely erroneous. For the first, I think honestly that the women–and it's always women–who tearfully or angrily say such things are confusing the Church with their memories of what life in general was like for women in their young days. Though many people coat the past in rosy hues, it's quite discernible from history that women weren't always treated as if they were intelligent, capable, thoughtful equals to their male counterparts (just do a search for sexist vintage advertising, if you don't believe me–but be careful; some of those ads are shockingly unfit for children's eyes). Sadly, I think that some older Catholic women associate those attitudes with the Church; they may even have encountered them in their parishes when they were young. So anything that even reminds them of those past days becomes coated in their memories with a whole lot of other, negative memories or emotions–leading to a reflexive rejection of Latin or of anything that smacks of tradition.
Practically everyone I've ever met who rejects traditional things out-of-hand is well older than me. Sometimes it's downright bizarre… I once met an old lady at a parish I used to attend (a parish that had gone so far over the edge that the archbishop actually dissolved it) who proclaimed in letters to the editor that the Rosary was a tool of oppression. I have never been able to figure that one out. Did someone tie her to a chair with one when she was a kid?
This isn't the same as "everyone my age or younger prefers traditional stuff to contemporary stuff." The truth is that Generation X hasn't had very much exposure to the traditional things, thanks to our elders tossing them all into the trash. I believe there is good to be found in contemporary music and architecture, too, though it requires some sifting because there's also a lot of piffle and silliness and ugliness as well, and time is perhaps the best sieve for that. Still, it's funny how many of the aging Boomers and their immediate predecessors don't seem to have caught a clue that the winds of change have passed them by, and that timelessness has the upper hand… almost by definition.
Latin is part of our heritage, and "dead" or not, it could become practical as well as beautiful. My neighborhood is full of immigrant families who worship in Spanish at the church up the street, a church building that also houses an administratively separate, English-speaking parish. Latin is as much their heritage as it is mine (and they'd probably have an easier time learning it than I am having). Here in the U.S., as in many other countries with linguistically mixed populations, Latin could become (again!) a lingua franca enabling us to worship side by side instead of in linguistically segregated congregations. Cut the homilies in half (please!) and deliver them twice, once in English, once in Spanish, and bingo: two communities made one. Isn't that progressive enough for you?
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