DD, Part II

When I left off last week, I mentioned Pope Francis’ comment about wanting to preserve and safeguard the “truth and power...the beauty” (#16) of the Liturgy. He has desires; he also has concerns.
He is worried that liturgical celebrations can be (and, frankly, have been) co-opted “…in service of some ideological vision, no matter what hue” (#16). He will be explicit later on in the Letter, but in the meantime, I can observe that he is making a critique both of alt-right and far-left “styles” that privilege “politics” over prayer. We don’t need “spiritual worldliness,” as he puts it, thinking that it’s all on our efforts or all and only about me. Liturgy, Francis observes, is always about “we,” not “me,” and it’s all a response to a prior invitation, not my own initiative, as though I were somehow doing God a favor by coming to church (##17-20).
How does the Liturgy’s beauty and power come to be expressed? There must be a balance between “exterior observance…[or] scrupulous observance of rubrics” on the one hand, and “careless banality…[or] ignorant superficiality, or…exasperating practical functionalism” (#22). We don’t need “nervous prissiness” or “sloppy thoughtlessness.” Rubrics are there for a reason and should be attended to, but slavish regard on its own does not bring liturgy alive, any more than does self-referential disregard for them. Paying attention is important, but “…that would not be enough to make our participation full” (#23). This means that our participation must not only be full, but also fruitful.
Francis wants to abandon the phrase “sense of mystery,” and replace it with astonishment or wonder. I fully agree with him! These days the phrase “sense of mystery” has been taken on by neo-Tridentines as their banner for wanting to return to the “old Mass.” But that “sense of mystery” has nothing to do with participation or reverence; it’s much more about the aesthetic of quiet (me and my Rosary or prayerbook), with the priest doing whatever he is doing alone. Here “mystery” could be equated with thinking “Is it time yet for the Consecration?” He’s too far away to hear, and if he could be heard (even with his back to you) his mumbled (and probably very bad) Latin would block people from actually comprehending anything.
The opposite extreme is having an old-fashioned “folk Mass” with virtually no structure at all other than actually using bread and wine; prayers are improvised (and possibly heretical), and the bottom line is the community gathered rather than the One who actually does the gathering. The central act of worship here is the “Greeting of Peace,” which might go on for 10 minutes—it’s the worship of self/community rather than the Lord.
Let’s avoid both these extreme aberrations. Thankfully, the second is quite on the wane (if it still exists at all); sadly, the first is very much with us.

The next installment will talk more about “wonder” and “astonishment.”

-Fr David