The liturgy "composed on his own by, say, some Pentecostal pastor in Houston for next Sunday's service in his church"

     ". . . the traditional liturgies have stood the test of time across many centuries by billions of Christians. For that reason, the understanding of God implicit and explicit in ['the points of convergence of'] those liturgies has more authority, carries more weight (gravitas), than one composed on his own by, say, some Pentecostal pastor in Houston for next Sunday’s service in his church; the theology implicit and explicit in the latter is more likely to be quirky, distorted, out of the mainstream. . . .
     ". . . the traditional liturgies have a depth, a richness, a beauty that, in my experience, these contemporary alternative liturgies lack. In my (admittedly limited) experience, the latter liturgies strip elements out of the traditional liturgies, reduce the imagery, make the language chatty and prosaic so that everyone can understand immediately what is being said. There remains only a faint echo of the enormous devotion and creativity that the early church poured into its liturgies. The most radical example of this reductive flattening-out that I have encountered was a Sunday morning service that consisted of nothing more than a praise band performing for about half an hour, followed by a perfunctory prayer spoken by the leader of the band and what was described as a 'talk' by the minister — nothing more.
     "If the alternative contemporary liturgies that I have experienced are typical of these liturgies as a whole, then these liturgies do not represent a fresh burst of liturgical creativity but represent instead the stripping out from the traditional liturgies of almost all their components. Accordingly, in discussing the theological implications of the acts to be found in the traditional liturgies we are also discussing the acts to be found in these alternative contemporary liturgies, since there are none to be found in the latter that are not to be found in the former.
     "My focus on the traditional liturgies does, of course, pose a question to the alternative contemporary liturgies, namely, why have they stripped so many things out? Why was there no confession of sins in that service I mentioned? Why no intercessions? Why no reading of Scripture? And why was there almost no sense of the majesty and awesomeness of God? Is there an understanding of God implicit in this radical stripping out that is different from the understanding to be found in the traditional liturgies? If so, what is that different understanding? . . ."

     Nicholas Wolterstorff, The God we worship:  an exploration of liturgical theology (Grand Rapids, MI:  Eerdmans, 2015), 19-20.  "I should add here that the revisions of their traditional liturgies that all denominations, with the exception of the Orthodox, undertook in the twentieth century also amounted to the stripping out of a fair number of traditional elements and theological principles" (20n11).  Agreed!  But granted that the Novus Ordo was itself a comparatively free-wheeling and parochial hatchet job, why is it necessary, leaving that aside, to focus on "the points of convergence" of the traditional liturgies if not because the Reformers, say, did the same (if to a much lesser degree than that "Pentecostal pastor in Houston")?