Down in front?
An auxiliary bishop from Kazakhstan (no Borat jokes, please), Athanasius Schneider of Karaganda, has written a commentary in the Osservatore Romano arguing that kneeling and receiving Communion on the tongue is the proper posture. The article is titled “Like a nursing child in the arms of the one who nourishes him,” and Bishop Schneider seems to take the metaphor of God feeding His children as the governing principle for the reception of the Eucharist. The bishop is getting major props, naturally, from many corners of the Catholic blogosphere. When the motu proprio on the Old Rite came down some joked that this would be the next step. Hard to believe, but…Catholic News Service has a write-up.



Apparently, then, Jesus dishonored Himself when he failed to require the disciples to kneel and extend their tongues at the Last Supper. Or has Leonardo deceived us?
It is not the custom of Jews to kneel.
Perhaps this should be viewed as a very subtle way of laying the groundwork for a reconsideration of the ordination of women. Women, after all, being far more capable of representing a nursing mother than a man could ever be. Or maybe it is a not so subtle way of saying that the church considers its members to be nothing more than infants/children. So many possibilities!
My wife had rather difficult experiences with nursing all three of our sons, so this might be a way for women to associate with the suffering of God. Certainly, few women who have nursed a child would suggest this image for promoting a closer relationship with God.
How is it that Osservatore Romano decides that a piece like this is worthy of precious inches of newsprint? Just to stir the pot on a slow news day? Not entirely venting here, I’d really like to know what goes into an editorial decision like this.
The first time I end up tripping on one of these “kneelers” in front of me is when I’m gettin’ a lawyur!
Jim, yours is a good question, and while I am somewhat surprised at the implicit approval given to this idea because of its appearance in the official Vatican newspaper, I think it reflects a trend toward trying to make the paper relevant and even readable. That is directly attributable to its new editor, Giovanni Maria Vian. Again, I think this can also be a perilous tack, as anything appearing there will have the appearance of an official statement. And why this column, I have no idea, except for the obvious conclusion…
In any case, Sandro Magister has had a couple of columns on the “new” Osservatore Romano:
http://chiesa.espresso.repubblica.it/articolo/179221?eng=y
http://chiesa.espresso.repubblica.it/articolo/169841?eng=y
When the US bishops were debating whether to permit receiving communion in the hand, which required several tries before it got the two-thirds majority needed, there came a moment in which proponents of the permission displayed a photo from L’Osservatore Romano that showed Pope Paul VI giving First Communion to the son of a Peruvian diplomat, and giving it to him in the hand. This caused some consternation in the ranks of those opposed to permitting communion in the hand. They cought clarification, and, sure enough, the word came from Rome that in fact the Pope was placing a set of rosaries, in a white case, into the hand of the child. At which point, Bishop Carroll Dozier was heard to murmur: “Im so glad for this authoritative clarification; I’ve long wondered whether I have to give rosaries on the tongue or may also give them in the hand.”
Remind me not to present myself for communion to the good bishop the next time I am in Kazakhstan.
“I’d really like to know what goes into an editorial decision like this.” Good Lord, man, must you really ask? The current bandwagon on which careerists believe they must jump is the one that is running backwards at full speed.
Or, as Master Will Shakespeare put it: “Tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind.”
Blessed are those from whom you expect nothing: you shall not be disappointed.
No good news ever comes out of Kazakhstan.
I kinda don’t think this is an argument that is terribly legislative. It’s more of an “argument from fittingness,” as the saying used to run.
As nothing good comes out of Nazareth, I presume you mean?!
I love the image of Eucharist as breastfeeding. I understood the connection one day while breastfeeding my son at mass. As a mother, my strongest image of nourishment and connection is breastfeeding. I thought I was being terribly original and feminist until I learned the early church fathers had beaten me to it.
It sounds like Bishop Schneider has very little experience observing breastfeeding. It may sometimes be serene and spiritual, a gentle sucking while cuddled in a mother’s arms. At other times, breastfeeding is a wild and frantic process, involving distraction, biting, burping, playing, singing, hitting, squirming, and the like.
I think the reality of breastfeeding is actually a better metaphor for the reality of the Eucharist. We are not always serene and spiritual — sometimes we, too, flail about restlessly seeking sustenance. God our mother is always there to nourish us, reaching out to us with love and tenderness.
What Tacitus said of Rome seems true of the Vatican. “Corruptissima re publica plurimae leges.” (When the republic is at its most corrupt the laws are most numerous) These regulations that come out of the Vatican are laughable also. They are rightly ignored as coming from a group which has lost its spirit and is conscious of power. Someone should tell them what a laughingstock they are so they might consider doing more productive things with their time.
Bill, first of all, although I’m not altogether sure I could find Kazakstan on a map, still I’m pretty sure it’s not in the middle of the Vatican.
Secondly, if the multiplicity of regulations in liturgy is a sign of anything, I think that we should take a look at the number of dogmatic statements that have been made from every corner in the last 40 years. People have been forbidden from kneeling and discouraged from genuflecting. Parishes have been told that it is no longer permissible to keep the tabernacle in the same space as the liturgical assembly. Beautiful pipe organs have been dismantled and acoustically outstanding choir lofts have become storage shelves.
I’ve been attending liturgical training of various kinds for 20 years, and I can’t begin to tell you how many good ideas have been regulated out of existence by the most ephemeral liturgical fashions.
Kathy, no question both sides have been unreasonable at times. As far as the tabernacle there are theological reasons for that. The centering on the tabernacle came about because people were separated from the Eucharist. They were so far back that bells had to be used to let the congregation know the Eucharistic Prayer was being said. People were discouraged from going to partake. Why do you think there is the rule that you had to make your Easter Duty?That is silly. One should partake whenever one is at the Lord’s Supper.
Bill,
I have heard these claims before, of course. I’ve never actually heard them backed up by reference to a diary or other firsthand document. But every progressive liturgist “just knows” that “nobody ever went to Communion in the Middle Ages.” Claims like this are often used to justify the current opposite errors on the side of a very carefree populism, in which people with no other relationship to the Church at all–possibly not even Baptism–can easily feel free to go to Communion.
In a parish I know, it would be so awkward to avoid going to Communion that everyone just goes. The pews are very narrow front to back, so you can’t just let people crawl over you, and the EM is standing at the end of the pew, waiting, so you just go ahead and go. Perhaps it’s a unique modern parish: maybe every single person attending Mass with a significant other is married to that person. And neither one is married to anyone else. And they’re both Catholic. And neither one has stolen any siginificant amounts of money lately or hurt anybody or gravely neglected the poor since their last confession.
On the other hand, it is possible that in large suburban parishes there is very little practical acknowledgment of what we’re doing, Whom we receive, Whom we become by receiving. So what’s wrong with a little body language?
I don’t like the continual “tweaking” of the rubrics, especially since it seems to annoy people rather than making them more prayerful, which the liturgy “change agents” never seem to consider.
I can see where someone who enjoyed breastfeeding her children would find this comforting, and I like Gina’s take on it. Bless us, Lord, both peaceful and squirmy :-)
However, the Mass is supposed to remind us of the Last Supper and Christ’s ensuing sacrifice of his body and blood, and taking communion in the hand always reminds me of the loaves and fishes, story–that Christ finds the means to feed all the faithful. So the breastfeeding image doesn’t work for me.
In any case, I don’t receive, so I probably don’t have any biz in this discussion except to say that the narrow-pew-pile-up that Kathy notes can be easily solved.
Step 1: Sit on the center aisle.
Step 2: When the ushers dismiss your pew, step into the aisle and take a step back to indicate people behind you should move into the aisle. Say a prayer for them if you want to.
Step 3: Step back into your seat and stand until you’re supposed to sit back down. Most people return to their pew up the side aisle, so you won’t have to have people crawling over you.
Well – might as well step in it again, but although I don’t necessarily agree with the good bishop’s position . . .
On the concerns with changing the rubrics – I have a hard time with this argument or concern. Having grown up Catholic in the US in the 60′s and 70′s, as far as I could tell, there weren’t any, or at least they changed year to year and parish to parish. I guess my question is, why is introducing communion rails a threat to liturgical stability when removing them wasn’t?
The other thing I find interesting is the way many are threatened by even a suggestion of adopting something like this or any of the traditional practices. In my parish, the new priest decided to ring bells at the consecration at Christmas Midnight Mass. From the reaction of some of the “insiders” – I hate to say it but 40-70 year old emplyees and volunteers – you would have thought that he was suggesting we burn heretics in the parking lot. The interesting thing is that when he insisted, the reaction from the parishioners was almost uniformly positive – many specifically mentioned how beutiful it was as they left the church.
It seems to me that the liturgical reformers of the 60′s and 70′s are now the liturgical police of the 21st century.
“Like a nursing child in the arms of the one who nourishes him,”
Indeed. I don’t see the connection with kneeling and receiving Communion. Maybe the bishop sits down and the communicant is to sit in his lap while taking the Sacrament.
“Parishes have been told that it is no longer permissible to keep the tabernacle in the same space as the liturgical assembly.”
Rome did float the original idea back in the 60′s, so it must be *true*.
I suppose a great many similes and metaphors are meaningful to some and not to others, but I have to say that I find the idea of adults receiving the body and blood of Christ like breastfeeding babies to be downright creepy.
I know that Jesus said we must become like children, but my Saint Mary’s Press College Study Bible has a note saying, “The child is held up as a model for the disciples not because of any supposed innocence of children, but because of their complete dependence on, and trust in, their parents. So must the disciples be, in respect to God.” A breastfeeding baby is utterly dependent, but the concept of trust for a small, helpless infant is absent (in my opinion). And the idea of adults being breastfed, even symbolically or metaphorically, conjures up images that I’d really rather not entertain.
While it is interesting to know that “the practice of laypeople receiving Communion on the tongue was the predominant custom by the sixth century,” that was 500 years after Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me.”
As for kneeling, I did enough of it as a child and young teenager to develop prepatellar bursitis–which upon being diagnosed I was disturbed to be told is commonly known as “housemaid’s knee”–so the idea of kneeling in the presence of the sacred is deeply ingrained. However, it strikes me every now and then that some of the concepts that remain part of religion are remnants of a worldview that we no longer have. I don’t know the history of kneeling, but I am guessing that in times past, you knelt before kings and queens and others higher in status than you in addition to kneeling in worship, and kneeling was something from “real life,” not just worship services. Similarly, the concepts of Jesus as “Lord” or “King” and Mary as “Queen of Heaven” date back to times when the idea of kings and queens were far different from what they are today. I don’t think it would enhance anybody’s idea of the Virgin Mary to be told that she is to Heaven what Queen Elizabeth II is to the United Kingdom.
hi all David et al,
I’m just wondering whether you all as editorial decision makers could take a look at your tone, if it is true as you assert that you love the Church, and considering the historic role of Commonweal (and America) in the Catholic church. I understand that authoritative smugness prevails in ideological publications, but it doesn’t seem to be a worthy justification for it and it certainly doesn’t seem to be an essential element for change. Like it or not, you set the terms and conditions for discussion and dialogue and it leaves the dreaded ‘pew sitters’ in a disenfranchised position, much of the time. cheers.
The other week I had in mind the movie, Barfly. To all my friends, it’s amazing what can happen when we take off the beer goggles! I know that it is difficult, since the tone of dismissiveness and sarcasm, used pre-emptively in introducing discussion of a subject that seems important to us or to a political achievement, immediately places whole slews of people on the defensive. But it seems as though this might be needless to legitimate debate. Sometimes it even seems to hinder it and the envisioned goals. And it is the case that ‘everybody does it’, when everybody does it, no one wants to look like the altar boy or the nun for that matter who fits the derisive stereotype of being humorless, joyless, stern (the penguin?), etc etc, rigid, all the stereotypes that left and right so nostalgically and loyally repeat undendingly. That I issue a challenge to those more empowered than the average Joe or Mary in the pews is not meant to imply that it is not something everybody is burdened by at this point in our culture. No one seems exempt, you’d have to have been brought up on a commune or something in order to not be affected (infected?) by it!? So, we see who is ‘serious’ in that fun and progressive way…and who is surly and obstructionist in this venture…who’s with me?
MMK
Here is a Ms Pew-sitter who is with you. I have only been reading this blog since November, but already I am turned off by the tone of some of the posts. On the other hand, I have learned new things, and received new insights, so I guess it’s a trade off.
I’m amazed at the smugness of those who object to the “tone” of some posts.
Maybe the problem should be content and unfortunately, Bishop Schneider’s piece and analogy seem to limp more than severely.
But you see, all of the Church’s troubles today can be clearly traced to our collective failure to kneel over the past 40 years.
Or at least here’s someone thinks so.
http://www.lifesite.net/ldn/2008/jan/08010904.html
And, as an aside, this article captures the SMUG trophy, hands down.
Joe M,
The article you point to highlights undue restrictions being imposed on the faithful.
People were not ALLOWED to kneel.
Why not?
MMK and Carolyn, since Nov. 8, I decided never to worry about my tone again, though I did ask to be rotated off the list of official bloggers so as not to be an embarrassment to the magazine and other official bloggers first.
On that date, a thread on civility was introduced and turned out to be one of the ugliest threads I ever read. It revealed, among other things, that conservatives view “civility” as some type of code for the “liberal agenda” (which is a hoot, because if you get two liberals in a room, they’ll end up arguing with each other rather than developing any “agenda”).
But the lesson learned there was that if liberals can’t even TALK about civility without conservatives crying foul, what’s the point in trying to be polite, nice or not smug?
People have opinions. People who blog introduce topics in a way that reveals their opinions, which may be annoying or infuriating.
Deal with it.
The “thread on civlility” discussed a blatantly separatist document.
This thread is about a blatantly reactionary document, but one which raises, I believe, interesting questions about a) liturgical freedom since Vatican II, and b) the new editorship of L’Osservatore Romano, and c) models of Eucharistic piety. And breastfeeding! So why don’t we try to have the usual enjoyable candid discussion?
Jean
I guess I missed the November 8 post. I have no objection to the way the threads are introduced. It is the responses that concern me.
If one of the purposes of the creation of this blog is to attract new subscribers to Commonweal magazine, and I do not know that it is, some of responses are not helpful. I subscribed to Commonweal because I wanted to read an article for which a subscription was necessary. I didn’t read the blog until later. Since we are not asked for a password before reading, I assume the blog is open to the public. If I had tried out the blog before deciding to subscribe, I might not have done so because of the, yes, tone of some of responses.
There are other Catholics, such as I, who are not caught up in the snarl of liberal vs conservative. Attracting them to the magazine might be a reason to consider gentleness and courtesy somewhat important.
Anyway, I’ve learned by now which posts to read with the possibility of learning something new and which to scroll down without reading.
Carolyn and MMK, I’m slow on the uptake, don’t know civility from blatantly divisive, as my friend Kathy will attest.
But I guess I’m missing something in MMK’s original post (and I’ve never seen “Barfly,” so that one went way over my head).
I don’t understand what you think has been “authoritatively smug” in this thread. And how do the terms and conditions for discussion and dialogue leave pew sitters in a “disenfranchised” position?
Aren’t you pretty much saying what you want? It seems to me you’re free to press your points quite vigorously around here, even if nobody agrees with them.
The person who posts the original topic is speaking only for himself, and the rest of us can concur, disagree, or jump all over him (or her) so long as we don’t veer off into actionable language.
Or am I just “not getting it”?
Jean
I’ve learned new things reading here, and I appreciate that. I also like Commonweal magazine. I agree that everyone can say what they want, as I have done, and that is good. The problem is just a lack of courtesy, call it good manners in some of the posts. Everyone has been courteous to me, so that is not the complaint.
It seems to me that people could express the same ideas in a less strident manner, if that is the word I want. Anything that can be said meanly or rudely, can also be said courteously, in my opinion. The “sarcasm and divisiveness” in some of the comments bothers me. However, as I said, I have learned which replies to read and which to scroll down after the first few words. So I have worked it out for myself, and I am satisfied. But I worry that people just trying the blog to see what the magazine is like will be turned off. The tone of the magazine is pitch perfect as far as I am concerned and I would like for the blog to reflect it more than it does.
First of all it is silly and woefully in error to blame the editors of Commonweal for each person’s opinion on this blog. Secondly, the beauty of this blog is that it allows engagement that is civil unlike most orthodox blogs. In fact orthodox people come here for sensible dialogue.
Bill
Nothing I said indicates that I blame the editors of Commonweal for each person’s opinion on the blog. I have no idea what you mean by orthodox blogs, so I don’t know if they are civil or not. For this blog, which it is obvious many people like, I was speaking of style not content. The majority of the replies on the blog are are expressed with courtesy and good humor. If you cannot hear the discordent tone in some of the replies, then there is nothing more to say about it.
Carolyn, thanks. As Bill says, nothing anybody posts or says reflects the magazine; they’ve simply provided the “hall,” as it were.
If you’re going to be on here, you have to develop a thick skin. I’m a failed convert, but the magazine and conversation keep me connected to the Church so’s I don’t create a total meltdown with my husband and son, who are practicing.
If you listen to a lot of different Catholics with different points of view, all of them purport to convey the “true spirit” of Church teaching in equally strident tones. I find these arguments so damn confusing and the advice of priests so conflicting that I am convinced only God knows who the “real” Catholics are. I’ll sit on the sidelines, thanks, be a friend to the church to the extent I can, and assume nothing about the state of my soul.
As far as the rubrics are concerned, I’d prefer intinction by the priest, receiving on the tongue or in the hand, my choice, depending on whether I or the priest and EMs have colds. That’s how I did it for 20 years in the Episcopal Church before conversion. That’s what feels “right.”
But, the Anglican communion is not valid. Even I know and believe that.
The Church is the only denomination to teach that Christ offers his actual body and blood at the Eucharist. Liturgists can argue to Kingdom Come (and will) about what body language best conveys that, and, to some extent, they lose sight of that most crucial and unique feature of Catholicism in so doing.
The breastfeeding image, in my view, isn’t going to be universally appealing (see David Nickol above). And to say that it helps pave the way for women priests (Joe Petit) strikes me as pretty far-fetched. My prediction is that you’ll see married men in the priesthood (converts have been allowed to keep their wives, and uniate priests are often married) before you see women.
As far as liturgical freedoms since Vat 2 are concerned, I defer to Kathy to get the conversation started there.
Another infallible mark of this blog is that people/persons (Okay, some people) don’t stick to the subject.
Jean: It seems my sarcasm function was not running well enough in my blogifying software. I sure did not expect to be taken seriously regarding the ordination of women! I certainly share your prediction about the path the priesthood will likely take.
When the American bishops make statements about homosexuality, birth control, and abortion, they are the highest religious authorities in the country, appointed by the Vicar of Christ as successors to the Apostles. However, when they say
they are out of line for placing undue restrictions on the faithful.
And when they speak out about the minimum wage, the war in Iraq, or immigration policy, nobody pays any attention whatsoever.
it seems to me that a recurring theme on this blog is just what constitutes “incivity” and/or “discourtesy”. Indeed, it is a unversal one on the net I think we need a thread on the subject. True. It is a murky one.
P.S. Grant. — I seem to be able toppst here on my blessed iPhone.
P.P.S. Please forgive the typos. You need good aim for this dandy. Little machine.
David,
I hadn’t realized they said “not a licit posture.” Wow. That is a canonically very strong thing to say. That’s saying that kneeling for Communion violates liturgical law in the US.
Why would anyone say that? It’s not a matter of traffic jams or accidental tripping, is it?
It has been fascinating to see ho this thread evolved from the subject of how to receive communion to civility on the Commonweal blog, and I don’t at all mean that sarcastically. There was a certain endearingly comical aspect to it all, including Ms. Steinfels’ comment, other examples of which I have observed over the course of a year or so, which implicitly urges the disparate gaggle of bloggers to stick to the subject. Her efforts are similar in difficulty to herding cats.
To Jean Raber: Unless I’m speaking only for myself, we all hope that you make your peace with the Faith; you seem to be a very bright, articulate, and kind person, and though I don’t always agree with you, you could certainly babysit my grandchildren. That’s the highest compliment I have for anybody.
Bob,
This is surreal.
For once I agree with you (about Jean, wholeheartedly).
And for once I agree with Ms. Steinfels. So could we please get back to…what was the topic?
“Her efforts are similar in difficulty to herding cats.”
Yes, repeated calls for civility from bloggers (including me at one point), requests to stick to the topic, etc. are interesting to watch, and they do absolutely no good whatever.
I think it tells us something about the delayed and relatively anonymous nature of the blog that allows people to go off topic (like now), be sarcastic or ironic (bad Joe Pettit!), or veer off into whining about their personal problems with the faith (mea culpa there, but Bob bring the kiddies over anytime! I have lots of books like “Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type” and “The Cat in the Hat” that are thinly disguised pinko and anarchistic manifestos, and I’ll teach them to play the “Internationale” and “The Ballad of Joe Hill” on the ukulele! Always a barrel of fun at “Gramma” Jean’s house!).
Back to topic:
From an outsider’s perspective, I find what seems to be a push back to kneeling and receiving on the tongue very weird, coming right on the heels of the new rubrics NOT to kneel after communion, but to stand.
It was explained to us that kneeling is the posture of worship and standing is the posture of readiness. In other words, you kneel to worship the transubstantiation of the elements, but you stand when you receive to show your readiness to partake and become the body of Christ and do his work. (I’ve probably not done justice to the whole spiel, but that’s the gist.)
So: Is that good “body language,” to use Kathy’s term? Or should the Church go back to the way we did things before AND add the rail, kneelers and tongues?
Kathy has also raised the issue of liturgical “freedom,” and I’m not sure what that means. Do you favor, for instance, a “low,” “broad” or “high” liturgy from which the priest and parish may select?
So, Kathy, I think we’re waiting for you to tell us your thoughts, because my guess is that most people (except me) would see kneelers and tongue-receiving retrogressive.
When the American bishops make statements about homosexuality, birth control, and abortion, they are the highest religious authorities in the country, appointed by the Vicar of Christ as successors to the Apostles. However, when they say
“Kneeling is not a licit posture for receiving Holy Communion in the dioceses of the United States of America unless the bishop of a particular diocese has derogated from this norm in an individual and extraordinary circumstance.”
they are out of line for placing undue restrictions on the faithful.
I’m not an advocate of kneeling for communion, but I think it is worth pointing out that in their statements regarding homosexuality, birth control, and abortion the bishops are general reiterating long-standing Christian tradition; in labeling kneeling “illicit” they are banning what was the normal practice of Catholic for centuries.
Also, I love the image of Christ as nursing mother, but to connect it with kneeling indicates that the bishop does not have a very good idea of the mechanics involved in breastfeeding.
I have this sweet scene in my mind, of Gramma Jean sitting in an armchair under a lamp in the evening reading “Steal This Book” to little children in bow ties and patent leather mary janes.
Retrograde = bad. That’s what I think. Time, God’s gift, does not go backwards, and we’re in it. So we go ahead.
However, we have a relationship with those who came before and it is deep. Plus we have a relationship to God in His special presence at the liturgy. Plus we are a parish community in communion with a bishop. Plus the bishop is one of a college, and the primal see is Rome.
I think that everything at the liturgy–architecture, gestures, music–should be constantly be thought about and discussed with the intent of reform. Reform is just one thing, although we experience it in the two polarities of aggiornamento and ressourcement.
If a gesture is better, we should use it without worrying too much about the politics of the matter. It is what it is, and if it does better justice to all of our ecclesial relationships, we should use it.
F. C. Bauerschmidt,
A great many things that changed as the result of Vatican II, both major and minor, had been that way for centuries, and many of those things, rightly or wrongly, had deep meaning to Catholics. I remember when the rule about no meat on Fridays was relaxed, a Catholic co-worker said, with real chagrin, “We’re becoming just like the Protestants!” I remember my sister telling me she burst into tears when it came time for the “kiss of peace” at Mass. I remember worrying about looking at my non-Catholic father’s copy of the Bible (Revised Standard Version) because it was not a Catholic Bible. (I know a great story about two young Catholics who rescued a RSV Bible from a Dumpster, because they thought it was wrong for a Bible to be in the garbage, but they also felt they shouldn’t actually read it.) I remember when you had to get permission to go to a friend’s wedding if it was in a Protestant church and Protestant teens were not admitted to dances at Catholic high schools. I remember when no one would have dared talk about anti-Semitism in the Gospels, when the Catholic Church was verus israel. I remember when it was required that you fast from midnight before receiving communion.
Someone (Jewish) I was telling about the controversy over kneeling versus standing to receive communion said it sounded like the big-endians versus the little-endians.
The point of my message was that the Catholic Chuch can command obedience in the weightiest of matters (although, of course, their commands may not be heeded), and that the Catholic Church has made a number of major and abrupt changes that it expected people to accept (which largely they did), but in the insignificant matter of kneeling versus standing, their commands are met in some quarters as breathtaking intrusions on the liberties of Catholics.
Kathy, for shame! Gramma Jean would never read Abbie Hoffman to the kiddies. Too many bad words. And, anyway, stealing is always wrong under any circumstance. Mother Jones is a far better role model, and a Catholic to boot.
Anyway, kids like hands-on projects, so rather than doing to much sitting around, I like arts and crafts. Like how to staple protest signs to sticks so they won’t blow off, and start fires in burn barrels for those events which call for protracted picketing.
The issue of whether it is illicit to receive communion while kneeling is closely related to the issue of what the sanctions are for kneeling while receiving communion. Since the sanctions don’t seem to be set forth anywhere, the instruction that the kneeling posture is illicit seems rather academic.
Aside to Kathy and Jean: Are you two attempting to stir my pot? Your efforts, though funny and sly, are, alas, inadequate. Besides, my granddaughter Sasha, though only nineteen months old, would clean your clocks (in her own very sweet way of course).
Bob, people in the two parishes I attend receive standing, kneeling, in the hand, on the tongue. I have never seen anybody denied communion for assuming the wrong position. So I think you’re right in that it’s an academic question. I’d hope most priests have bigger things to worry about.
(I’m sure Sasha is a sweetheart.)
The sanctions were overruled, or rather they were a bit of an overreach to begin with, so they’re now moot. (I would have mentioned this before but I thought it was common knowledge.)
Rome, February 26, 2003
This Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments has received your letter dated December 1, 2002, related to the application of the norms approved by the Conference of Bishops of the United States of America, with the subsequent recognitio of this Congregation, as regards the question of the posture for receiving Holy Communion.
As the authority by virtue of whose recognitio the norm in question has attained the force of law, this Dicastery is competent to specify the manner in which the norm is to be understood for the sake of a proper application. Having received more than a few letters regarding this matter from different locations in the United States of America, the Congregation wishes to ensure that its position on the matter is clear.
To this end, it is perhaps useful to respond to your inquiry by repeating the content of a letter that the Congregation recently addressed to a Bishop in the United States of America from whose Diocese a number of pertinent letters had been received. The letter states: “…while this Congregation gave the recognitio to the norm desired by the Bishops’ Conference of your country that people stand for Holy Communion, this was done on the condition that communicants who choose to kneel are not to be denied Holy Communion on these grounds. Indeed, the faithful should not be imposed upon nor accused of disobedience and of acting illicitly when they kneel to receive Holy Communion”.
This Dicastery hopes that the citation given here will provide an adequate answer to your letter. At the same time, please be assured that the Congregation remains ready to be of assistance if you should need to contact it again.
With every prayerful good wish, I am
Sincerely yours in Christ,
[signed]
Mons. Mario Marini
Undersecretary
The basic norm of whether the faithful are to kneel or stand is within the competence of the Conference (as confirmed by recognitio) but not to the point of illiceity.
[90.] “The faithful should receive Communion kneeling or standing, as the Conference of Bishops will have determined”, with its acts having received the recognitio of the Apostolic See. “However, if they receive Communion standing, it is recommended that they give due reverence before the reception of the Sacrament, as set forth in the same norms”.[176]
[91.] In distributing Holy Communion it is to be remembered that “sacred ministers may not deny the sacraments to those who seek them in a reasonable manner, are rightly disposed, and are not prohibited by law from receiving them”.[177] Hence any baptized Catholic who is not prevented by law must be admitted to Holy Communion. Therefore, it is not licit to deny Holy Communion to any of Christ’s faithful solely on the grounds, for example, that the person wishes to receive the Eucharist kneeling or standing. (Redemptionis Sacramentum, http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/ccdds/documents/rc_con_ccdds_doc_20040423_redemptionis-sacramentum_en.html)
Kathy, regarding your comments of January 11 @ 10:45pm:
Liturgical historian Keith Pecklers, S.J., in his WORSHIP: A PRIMER IN CHRISTIAN RITUAL (pp. 62-63) offers the following information regarding liturgical changes during the Medieval Period:
“The ‘distancing of God’ was especially acute at the Eucharist. Unleavened bread was introduced in the West in the eleventh century. Since the laity had ceased the practice of frequent communion, the bringing of bread and wine from the home no longer made sense (Cabie: 1992, p. 132). Increasingly, there was an emphasis on adoring the Eucharist rather than sharing it. The Eucharistic Prayer came to be prayed in a low voice or completely inaudibly. The sanctuary or presbyterium became the ‘holy of holies’ where only the clergy were welcome. The lay faithful kept their distance and were separated by a ‘roodscreen’ made of wood, clearly demarcating the liturgical space; gradually that barrier became more opaque. Choirs replaced the laity in singing the Mass; the procession of the laity with the gifts ceased; private Masses abounded….[L]iturgy had become the property of the clergy so much so that liturgical books even failed to acknowledge the presence of the laity at public Masses. The normative way of celebrating Mass was essentially without a congregation, even when a congregation was present. The Eucharist had become something which the priest did for others, rather than the one sacrifice of Christ offered together as Christ’s body. AT THE SAME TIME THE COUNCIL OF ROUEN DECREED THAT THE EUCHARIST COULD NO LONGER BE PLACED IN THE HANDS OF THE LAITY. AS A FURTHER SIGN OF RESPECT, COMMUNICANTS BEGAN KNEELING TO RECEIVE THE SACRAMENT [emphases added]. This was also practical so that the minister could more easily place the host on the tongue of the communicant. By the thirteenth century, the chalice was withheld from the lay faithful, as well (Cabie: 1992, pp. 135-6; 138-9.”
The book cover identifies the author as professor, inter alia, of liturgical history at the Pontifical Liturgical Institute of Sant’ Anselmo in Rome.
If I may opine in a more general way (and with no reference to Kathy or anyone else on this thread), it amazes me that so-called “orthodox” Catholics — even when confronted with such liturgical history that clearly shows the gradual but certain subordination of the laity to the clergy — still insist it is more “traditional” to kneel and receive communion on the tongue because they somehow see themselves as “unworthy.” Never mind the Genesis account that God saw his creation as good. Never mind the reality of the Incarnation. Never mind the gospel accounts of the Son of God, the Messiah, sitting down with unrepentant sinners to deliver the Good News to them. Never mind the liturgical practices of the earliest Christian communities. These modern “traditionalist” Catholics see themselves as “unworthy,” a self-perception that truly befuddles me. As much as I hate to suggest it, this view seems — I repeat, seems — to maybe smack of manichaeism, the idea that matter is inherently sinful, if I recall. It’s as if the gospel accounts of the words and actions of Jesus are of no import!
And now we have many bishops of the church — supposed Teachers, no less — doing their level best to bring back this comparative novelty in Catholic worship, a cultural artifact that elevated the ordained and subordinated (subjugated?) the rest of us!!!
“Those who don’t learn the lessons of history….”
I ought to dismiss myself from this discussion, because I’ve already said plenty.
But first I must ask Joseph J. to clarify what diary or other primary source Fr. Pecklers, or Cabie before him, or anyone before him, consulted for his information.
These unsubstantiated characterizations of times that can no longer speak for themselves–whether the alleged “golden age” before Constantine or the supposed nefarious Medieval period–are not at all precise enough to be called history.
Joseph J.-
I imagine what seems to you to “smack of manichaeism”, the “so-called ‘orthodox’” Catholics would call humility. I reckon the “so-called ‘Orthodox’” would refer to, inter alia, the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector in Luke 18:9-14, the Centurion of Mathew 8:8, or perhaps the Baptist from Mark 1:7 (also John 1:27, Luke 3:16, or Matthew 3:11). The “so-called ‘orthodox’” may also refer to Jacob in Genesis 32:11 or such cultural artifacts as Psalms 6, 32, 38, 51, 102, 130, and 143.
The label “manichean” applied to a penitential disposition is an utter red herring. I can’t imagine that any of the “so-called Orthodox” Catholics who think that penitence is the proper attitude with which to approach the Eucharist would say that this is the case because we are material beings, but rather because our our spirits have fallen short of the glory of God.
As I said, I’m not particularly an advocate of kneeling for communion. I rather like the imagery of the pilgrim people in procession to the Lamb’s banquet. But it would never occur to me to impugn the motives or orthodoxy of those who find receiving communion kneeling a meaningful practice.
And with all due respect to Fr. Pecklers, while he is a professor of liturgy, he is in no way an expert on the Middle Ages, and the picture he presents is the standard out-of-the-can picture of the Middle Ages that one finds held by many liturgists, but by few modern historians of the period. Much work on medieval attitudes toward the Eucharist has been done by scholars like Caroline Walker Bynum, Eamon Duffy and John Bossy to show that, while Medieval attitudes and practices regarding the Eucharist might seem somewhat alien to us, there was no “distancing” of God involved, or at least no more than in any other period.
I am surprised that no one has cited St. Cyril of Jerusalem on this thread. In a well-known passage from the fourth-century on receiving communion he wrote:
“When you approach, do not go stretching out your open hands or having your fingers spread out, but make the left hand into a throne for the right hand which shall receive the King, and then cup your open hand and the Body of Christ, reciting the ‘Amen.’”
No less a commentator than OSV’s excellent columnist Msgr. Mannion cited St. Cyril in a Dec. 9, 2007 response to a reader asking about a return to communion on the tongue. Mannion also commented:
“Do I think we lack reverence by receiving Communion in the hand? No, I don’t. Nor do I know of the existence of evidence one way or the other. Everything depends on the attitude of the one receiving Communion and the general atmosphere that surrounds the celebration of the Mass…I have heard nobody suggest that Pope Benedict will abolish the reception of Communion in the hand and revert to the pre-1977 practice of receiving on the tongue. I do not think this is a major concern, except for a small group of people who are generally unhappy with liturgical reform.”
BTW, I also like a comment attributed to John Paul I which may be apropos: “After the Council of Trent, confessions increased and Communions decreased; while, after the Second Vatican Council, Communions increased and confessions decreased.”
[...] generally matched only by posts on the liturgy. Which is why this is so great: apropos (sort of) of an earlier post about an Osservatore Romano essay advocating kneeling and receiving comunion on the tongue, the [...]
Thanks to Joe J. for the Peckler synopsis – those who think such a distinguished professor made it up should go do research themselves.
The question of standing/kneeling as canonically licit or not seems to me to miss the point of what is preferable based in theology, not what suits one’s own fancy,
Similarly how to receive the Eucharistic meal Jesus began at a (passover) supper.
The liturgy wars continue to be another major fault line in the divide among Catholics. From where I sit (at the risk of being repetetive), Bishop Schneider’s articler (no matter where published) was far from helpful!
A quick heads-up: Biahop Marini is lecturing at Boston College on February 12: “The future of the liturgy is the future of the Catholic Church.”
KATHY, I do not know the sources used by Cabie et al. Pecklers’ bibliography includes Cabie’s THE CHURCH AT PRAYER: THE EUCHARIST (The Liturgical Press, 1992).
Regarding information I quoted earlier, I must take strong exception to your view that Pecklers offers “unsubstantiated characterizations.” As a “primer,” his book is not intended as a treatise on liturgical history. Therefore, it does not include the footnoting typical of journals and scholarly books. It is directed to a broad readership. Pecklers merely presents what he claims are various liturgical developments that came into play during the Middle Ages. I should remind you that his focus — in the excerpt — is church practice, not the motives, beliefs, or attitudes of the laity, as important as they undoubtedly are.
If, in your opinion, Pecklers’ work is “not at all precise enough to be called history,” so be it. Such being the case, are you then suggesting the author, a professor of both liturgy and liturgical history, fabricated the information?
It’s interesting you refer to “the alleged ‘golden age’ before Constantine.” In an article that appeared more than twenty years ago in AMERICA (“The Rise of Catholic Fundamentalism”), the late Jesuit Patrick M. Arnold wrote, “A universal feature of fundamentalists is their captivity by what might be called the ‘myth of the Golden Age’….Catholic fundamentalists seem content with a church that achieved its final, immutable form in the glorious decades before Vatican II….The oft-heard fundamentalist slogan, ‘The church is not a democracy!’ unwittingly suggests that it is actually an unlimited monarchy.”
Please clarify your use of “unsubstantiated characterizations.”
Thank you.
MAT, do your gospel references deal (more) with faith or humility? We do associate the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector — as well as the account of John’s preaching in the desert — with humility. John demonstrates his faith in Jesus.
The Centurion’s story, I suggest, is altogether different. It is one of faith, not humility. “I tell you [says Jesus], I have never found anyone in Israel with faith like this.” We must put the Roman officer’s statement (“I do not deserve to have you come into my house”) in context: He goes on to situate himself in the social/military pecking order vis-a-vis his servant, superior officers, subordinates, and slave.
In spite of Jesus’ acknowledgement of the centurion’s faith, Catholics by and large still associate this gospel account with humility. Yet we receive the eucharist in faith as the body and blood of Christ. I think Catholics generally have a false notion of humility. One definition of humility is “lack of pride.” The dictionary offers several meanings of the word ‘pride,’ both positive and negative. In church experience, I think the negative definition — conceit, an excessively high opinion of oneself — prevails (at least when understood as one of the “seven deadly sins”). Perhaps the Catholic experience is a communal “conversion reaction,” a psychological term referring to the phenomenon whereby a notorious sinner becomes a holy and pious saint. It is a movement potentially between unhealthy extremes. However, Catholic culture seems to add an interesting twist: One’s psychologically exaggerated sense of one’s sinfulness leads one to assume the role of “ecclesial doormat.” Humility, on the other hand, relates to having one’s feet firmly planted on solid ground. One is firmly grounded in knowledge, belief, and practice. Yes, one is a sinner, but aren’t we all? Do not the Incarnation, the life of Jesus, and the Resurrection prove our inherent worth as far as God is concerned? If God in the person of Jesus deemed us worthy of a “visit,” can we not reciprocate by way of worthy reception of the sacrament? I suggest the popular understanding of humility has no place here.
“Orthodox” Catholics (a label adopted by so-called “traditionalists” themselves), as you have remarked, see Mt 8:8 as an example of humility. In light of what I’ve noted above, I suspect there is more than meets the eye here. There is more than bad theology: There is a communal psychopathology. “Orthodox” Catholics see themselves “humbled” not only before the eucharist but also before the priest. It is the priest, after all, who does the “mediating” between God and the rest of us, and it is the priest, therefore, who is regarded as belonging to a privileged class within the ecclesial community. “Orthodox” Catholics, like other fundamentalists, attach excessive importance to established authority figures. The priest is the local authority!
In spite of eye-opening revelations of clerical and episcopal wrongdoing (surely not new in a hierarchical society), bishops by and large — and their “JPII priests” — are resisting demands for transparency, accountability, and sharing of authority with the laity. Such demands are seen as infringing on the prerogatives of the ordained, the church’s “leaders.” A passive or docile laity is what these guys want, and “orthodox” Catholics are only too happy and willing to oblige! Indeed, these folks see accommodation as “humble obedience to the Magisterium and successors of the Apostles.” Way more often than not, I suspect, such behavior is nothing more than blind submission and naivete.
You cited some O.T. passages that “may” inspire humility among “orthodox” Catholics. If my observations are any indication, these folks use the O.T. (and Paul) to condemn homosexuality. Rarely, if at all, does the Second Greatest Commandment enter discussion. When it does (because a progressive guy like me brings it up), the “orthodox” response casts the commandment’s application in self-righteous, paternalistic, and condemnatory terms.
F.C. BAUERSCHMIDT, thank you for the references. I later stumbled across Virginia Reinburg’s “Liturgy and the Laity in Late Medieval and Reformation France.”
It was not my intention to “impugn the motives or orthodoxy” of Catholics who prefer kneeling at eucharistic reception. My brief mention of manichaeism unfortunately took us on an unnecessary detour. If I raised any hackles, I apologize.
I appreciate your making reference to the “attitudes” of medieval Catholics. It was this concern of yours that prompted me to search the internet (source of Reinburg’s article). While not a historian (instead, a retired bureaucrat), I do not underestimate the pitfalls inherent in judging a society’s attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors several hundred years after the fact.
You state that a lot of work has been done by modern historians on medieval attitudes toward the eucharist. Reinburg’s article certainly suggests that her work is part of the progress in this area. I’m interpreting it as such. As a layman, I consider her findings quite revealing. Based on her original research, the author concludes “it is clear that the laity’s mass was less sacrifice and sacrament than a communal role of greeting, sharing, giving, receiving, and making peace.” For the priest, on the other hand, the liturgy requires the “intellectual grasp of eucharistic doctrine [and] scriptural teachings.” For the laity, though, “the ritual itself [is] a rich layering of associations, of social relationships and rituals expressing those relationships….[The liturgy establishes] social and spiritual solidarity among God, the Church, and the lay community.”
Before proceeding, I must ask if, in your earlier response, you were disputing Pecklers’ contention that the Middle Ages saw the developments in the mass mentioned in my previous post.
Kneeling at first glance may not seem like such a big deal. As others here/elsewhere have pointed out, however, Catholics who gravitate toward this form of eucharistic reception are often the very same folks who prefer to see Vatican II go away. They generally see themselves as subordinate to the ordained. Elsewhere in his book, Pecklers notes “When communion was given it tended to occur before or after Mass but not during. Members of the faithful could make their ‘spiritual communion’ with the priest as he communicated himself. They were convinced that they were too unworthy otherwise.” According to Reinburg, “lay communion was confined to a few important occasions during the church year — Easter, Christmas….Frequent communion remained rare among ordinary lay people even through the Counter Reformation.” She cites a French priest who “explained his reluctance to encourage frequent communion: not everyone has equal devotion to our Lord and the eucharist, and only very holy people…should be advised to communicate daily or even weekly. [This cleric] doubted that married people, especially married women, and artisans, could have their minds on ‘higher matters’ often enough for devout reception.” It would seem to me that ongoing eucharistic reception by the priest would confer “honor by association.”
In the meantime, according to Pecklers, various popular devotions come into vogue: eucharistic adoration and benediction, forty-hours devotion, Corpus Christi processions, Marian devotions (e.g., the rosary), novenas, and prayers to the saints. “Miracles grew during this period,” writes Pecklers, “especially regarding the Eucharist.” Historian Timothy Thibodeau calls attention to the “objectification” of the eucharist during this period (“Western Christendom” in G. Wainwright and K. Tucker [eds.], THE OXFORD HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN WORSHIP [2006].
My “take” on Pecklers is that he sees all of these developments, both liturgical and extra-liturgical, as indicative of a growing “distancing” between the laity and God in the mass itself. Not only does the great majority of laity not understand Latin, but the liturgy — lacking “doctrinally informed lay participation” (Reinburg) — is now, according to Pecklers, “the priest’s offering.” No longer does “the assembly [see] itself as the body of Christ and receive[] the Eucharist both symbolizing their own membership in that body and communion with one another.” The laity, quoting Reinburg, lack a “theologically prescribed role in the mass.” Their participation, which uses “metaphors of court and money” and is considered a “transaction” between God and man, is “‘socially necessary,’” according to a vernacular treatise referenced by Reinburg.
According to Pecklers, the “Mass was interpreted allegorically based on different moments of Christ’s life.” Reinburg adds that at mass the laity “compare[d] their relationship with Christ in the eucharist to their relationship with a secular lord or judge.” Allegory and metaphor describe the medieval liturgy. It may not be inaccurate to conclude that the mass was worship for the priest and a religiously oriented social occasion for the laity — with Jesus in the eucharist being honored as the royal guest. Given the rise of various extra-liturgical devotions during this period (most of them, no doubt, requiring the ceremonial leadership of a priest), we see the clergy and bishops taking on ever-expanding positions of honor and exclusivity between God and man. The laity see the liturgy in terms of Christ’s life and their own while we see the growing solidification of the “clerical club.”
You state that “there was no ‘distancing’ of God involved, or at least no more than in any other period.” If, however, we interpret Pecklers’ phrase from a liturgical rather than communal or social perspective, I think Pecklers is on solid ground. Liturgically speaking, medieval laity see the mass less as “sacrifice and sacrament;” sociologically speaking, they see it more as a “communal rite.” This conclusion does not detract from the liturgy’s value in the life of the community. As the vernacular treatise mentioned by Reinburg states, the mass is “‘socially necessary.’” This understanding of the liturgy’s social value brings to mind the opening line of Vatican II’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy: “1. This sacred Council has several aims in view: it desires to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful…” Unfortunately, the medieval Catholic’s understanding of the liturgy stops at the social aspect. The mass in their time, much like the Tridentine rite, belongs to the priest alone speaking in an unintelligible (and dead?) foreign tongue and with his back to the people. They are not expected or encouraged to receive communion except on special occasions. In a sense, Jesus in the eucharist stands in for the earthly king, and the priest is akin to a royal attendant-in-waiting.
Most ventures start out small. Organizational theory suggests that as enterprises endure through time, they tend to assume increasing complexity in structure and process, with their human interactions characterized by growing formality. The Church of Rome is no exception — except, of course, its early growth received no small help from secular imperial power. Even absent such help, one might expect the inevitable growth in sophistication for an institution as old as the Catholic Church.
The worldwide church cannot return to the simplicity of earlier times (Kathy’s remark about “the alleged ‘golden age’ before Constantine,” as she herself well knows, is a straw man). Nonetheless, it would be folly to return to practices that lend themselves (quoting historian Thibodeau) to the “objectification” of the eucharist. “Orthodox” Catholics do regard pre-Vatican II as the “golden age.” This preconciliar mindset lends itself to formation and maintenance of a clerical culture with its elevation of the ordained and (some would way) “subjugation” of the laity. In such an environment, why should anyone be surprised about revelations of episcopal arrogance in conduct, sexual improprieties and abuse, and financial wrongdoing?
The good bishop in Kazakhstan says we should kneel when receiving the eucharist. While belief can influence behavior, it is also true that behavior — institutionalized by those in positions of actual or perceived power — can influence belief about one’s self-worth, one’s place and role in the community, and one’s inherent value within the grander scheme of things.
We must not forget that Jesus said “I am the good shepherd” — the key word being “I.” We should not forget that Jesus said he “did not come to be served, but to serve” (Mt 20:28). If we take the Lord’s words seriously, and if we take Vatican II seriously, we will not go along with any practices that, history shows, tend to create or reinforce a clerical caste and put the rest of us “in our place.” Kneeling may not seem like a big idea, but it has a social history — and not a good one.
Hi, Joseph J.
What I think happens sometimes in scholarship is that by sheer repetition, speculations take on an aura of fact. This phenomenon can occur in any situation, but I am guessing it happens most often when there is a reason that it would be beneficial to scholars, proving their points. Scholars are fallible human beings, and most significantly: they were all trained. So without necessarily meaning to decive they repeat things that their teachers said emphatically. Whether or not they know the facts. You run across unsubstantiated assumptions in research all the time.
The Council instituted reforms. It did this with authority. But what I feel is currently being worked out is what exactly those reforms were. Some people (I take you to be among them) feel that they already know exactly what the Council stood for. I’m convinced that what the Council stood for is not known, and is usually reduced popularly to a progressivism that exceeds the documents!
One way to work things out, which I feel greatly oversimplifies the Council and minimizes its contribution, is to demonize everything that came before the Council. I know you can’t speak for the author you cited, nor for his sources. But wasn’t that your own intention?
Kathy,
While I’m no historian, I would think that in more recent years, church historians have been able to retrieve documents that give us valuable information about the past. Given the controversy over the Catholic liturgy since Vatican II, and F.C. Bauerschmidt’s suggestion that “few modern historians of the [Middle Ages]” subscribe to the “picture” presented by many liturgists including Pecklers, it would seem that the medieval liturgy would be an area ripe for exploration. Based on a cursory look at some modern works (Swanson at Cambridge; THE OXFORD HISTORY; Reinburg’s article with references; Bossy; and Duffy), this tentative conclusion seems to be the case. (I should state here — unless demonstrated otherwise — that if Reinburg’s article is representative of the scholarship in this area, and if her findings [albeit limited to France in the late medieval period] are not out of line with recent contributions by other historians, then I fail to see how Pecklers’ presentation of developments is inaccurate.)
Contrary to your assertion, I do not “know exactly what the Council stood for” (emphasizing the word ‘exactly’). Vatican II began a few months after I entered Catholic high school as a freshman. It ended less than six months before my graduation. I served the Tridentine mass (both at my parish and nearby Catholic hospital chapel) for three years in grade school. I also served when scheduled at weekly novena and benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Like others my age and older, I got to “know” the old ways of the church.
If I recall, you either were not around during this time or you would have been too young to remember the Tridentine liturgy and all the stuff associated with it before Vatican II. Believe me, we Tridentine and Vatican II veterans certainly do recall the flavor of the time during and after the council. The big word was ‘aggorniamento,’ continually making new again. There were complaints in some quarters forty years ago that liturgical renewal was occurring too fast (even I thought at the time it should have proceeded somewhat more slowly). Regarding interpretation of the conciliar documents, it apparently depends on who is doing the “interpreting.” Sacrosanctum Concilium, for example, is often used by “traditionalists” to show that the Novus Ordo went too far. However, any reasonable reading of the document would conclude that its language is overwhelmingly in favor of renewal, not minor tinkering (even a “traditionalist” Catholic lawyer has a website admitting as much!!!). We know from more recent revelations that Cardinal Ottaviani and other stalwarts did their level best to sabotage liturgical renewal both during the remainder of Vatican II and beyond. (As you know, the liturgy constitution was the first document approved by the council.)
It has never been my intention to “demonize” Trent or anything else. That’s way too strong a word! However, as a Tridentine and Vatican II veteran who’s been looking in recent years at the big picture of the Church of Rome, I must say in retrospect that renewal was very much needed. Did the conciliar fathers get more than they anticipated in 1962? By most if not all accounts, yes! Nonetheless, they were persuaded by theologians and other experts (and, who knows, maybe their own experience) that major change was needed.
Change can be threatening to those uncomfortable with it. We do have fundamentalists who prefer stability at all costs, virtually idolize authority figures, and see things in black-and-white terms. They have managed to “cozy up” with friends in high places over the years, and JPII certainly wanted to tamper the enthusiasm of the post-Vatican II years. We know he was an autocrat, his smiles toward non-Catholics and non-Christians notwithstanding. Benedict has shifted course — at least if his 1960s accounts of the council reveal his genuine belief/thinking at the time.
My intention was to show (via Pecklers) the liturgical changes that occurred during the Middle Ages and (vis-a-vis my own thinking) their contribution to the growing clericalization of the church in subsequent years that would put the laity “in their place.” Bauerschmidt, of course, raised the matter of “attitudes,” prompting me to do some additional informal research in this area. What I found with respect to practice did not seem to contradict what I quoted from Pecklers’ book.
Based on what I’ve learned in recent years (not to mention my own experience), I condemn in no uncertain terms recent moves by JPII and Benedict to make the Tridentine liturgy (more) available to Catholics who prefer it. Returning to the liturgical constitution et al, I do think the currrent pope is trying to rely on a narrow interpretation to “reform the reform.” I’m hoping, of course, that he fails big time!!!
Why do you condemn the efforts? Why do you not want reformation?
Isn’t the Church always in need of reformation? And wasn’t the process of liturgical change rushed?
I think some mistakes were made and I’m first of all glad that these can be addressed. But secondly, I’m happy for the old-Mass types, that they have liturgical freedom.
I’m not sure if you think that “freedom” is an operative framework here, but I know some people who are just so relieved that they can worship reverently. Usually not “again,” by the way, because these are younger people.
KATHY, as much as I commend your concern for the “underdog,” so to speak, I cannot in any way support or endorse attempts to preserve or revive the Tridentine mass. Whatever its merits in 1570 (and, yes, it did include some reforms), this liturgy is nonetheless at the heart of the clerical culture that has survived down to this day. Indeed, this sinful culture is on the upswing within certain quarters of the church. Not only is Rome making no attempt to stop this development, but the Vatican is actually encouraging its resurgence.
I think it is well past time for the church’s formal leaders to put the welfare of the People of God before such concerns as “tradition” or the “organic development of the liturgy.” Whenever I hear liturgists and others defending such concerns, I construe their efforts as nothing more than attempts to preserve/promote non-essentials of ecclesial culture at the expense of the laity. “Lex orandi, lex credendi” — and not just in matters of worship or religious belief as recent clerical/episcopal scandals can attest. And let’s not forget that we’ve seen only the tip of the iceberg. God only knows the sordid history that was made possible by a mentality (lay and ordained) that accepted — or dared not challenge — the elevation of the ordained and subordination of the laity.
In his Summorum Pontificum, the current pope wrote that “the Roman Missal promulgated by…John XXIII in 1962 [was] never abrogated…” Benedict relied on a legal technicality — and a specious one at that! Even Paul VI acknowledged that the Tridentine mass had been replaced. Maybe this acknowledgement wasn’t “legal,” but it reflected reality. Regardless of opinion forty years ago, the fact is the laity have “received” the Novus Ordo mass and its theological underpinnings. People opposed to the new rite have generally opposed Vatican II.
Whatever “heartburn” the pope has attributed to the contemporary liturgy has paled in comparison with the problems, both ecclesial and liturgical, associated with the Tridentine. Sacrosanctum Concilium emphasized the communal nature of worship and our openness to the world. The old rite, on the other hand, stressed individual worship and ecclesial exclusivity. Because the liturgy is at the heart of the church, progressive Catholics have opposed any reintroduction of a form of worship that maintained the ordained on their pedestals and kept the rest of us in the pews, “in our place,” so to speak.
Contrary to your suggestion, people can worship reverently at the Novus Ordo. The Tridentine, on the other hand, encourages passivity. It belongs to the priest, not to the people. If recent sociological research is any indication, I am not convinced that young(er) folks tend to gravitate to the Tridentine mass. Let’s also not overlook theology here. Contrary to what some church leaders would have us believe, SC is not Tridentine-friendly.
In his contribution on liturgy in the old CATHOLIC ENCYCLOPEDIA (1910), Adrian Fortescue acknowledged the reality of development in worship: “All ceremonial evolves gradually out of certain obvious actions done at first with no idea of ritual, but simply because they had to be done for convenience.” He noted that “the fundamental outline of the rite of the Holy Eucharist was given by the account of the Last Supper.”
The liturgy of Vatican II calls for the full, conscious, and active participation of the people — characteristics not at all reminiscent of, or associated with, the old rite. While we may not know exactly what the earliest Christian worship looked like, human experience suggests that Fortescue’s observation is right. Over time, the simple and humble becomes the ornate and royal. If we consider the legacy of the Tridentine, we don’t need “organic development.” We need healthy change that restores the commonality and community of the People of God. If some young(er) Catholics are attracted to the old liturgy, this would suggest the need for catechesis, not reversion to a style of worship whose deficiencies were addressed in SC.
Kathy, I recommend “Beyond language” by Mark Francis at http://www.thetablet.co.uk (2/14/07). The author offers, I think, one of the best critical synopses of Benedict’s decision to allow priests unfettered permission to “say” the Tridentine mass.
Oops, I should have said, “The author offers…one of the best critiques of Benedict’s decision…”
Earlier, Kathy, I referenced an article by a (Catholic) lawyer. It is “Sacrosanctum Concilium: A Lawyer Examines the Loopholes.” It is available free on the internet.