That's a beautiful image. And the idea—the wild Romantic dream—is also beautiful. Romantic Catholicism is beautiful and good. (Although not necessarily in the way that traditionalist Catholics imagine: if you think wearing a mantilla in church is preventing your sexuality from being a distraction to men around you I have some really bad news for you.)
But what exactly is this a rebellion against. Modernity? Presumably not. Modernism? Probably yes but which modernism?
And there is a sense in which this is all quite achievable. You simply decide to be an anachronism and do it.
But consider this: most modernisms are also revolts against the modern world. No modernist was ever happy with what modernity provided. The call to "make it new" was driven by a fear that modern civilization, left to itself, wouldn't get it right. The fear was that all those middle class shopkeepers pursuing comfort and economic security would degrade the culture. And perhaps they have/will.
But who anointed us to fix the problem? If the record of modernists and traditionalists both outside and inside the Church was a glowing example to inspire us all, I'd say jump on board. But that record is actually one of appalling blindness to the worst evils of the 20th century. Catholic traditionalists have one up on modernists in that they, at least, saw the dangers of communism. Their record on fascism, alas, is not so good. And, while far less damaging than horrid evils of fascism and communism, the legacy of Catholic traditionalism in Italy, Ireland and Quebec is not good.
Do I want to revolt against the modern world? Yes, I do. Do I want the Church to have a big influence on the culture and politics of the modern world? There I am not so certain.
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