Participatio Actuosa
Though I love teaching theology to college and graduate students (and learning much in the process), the theological high point of my week is the Sunday celebration of the Eucharist. For this reason I have a special fondness for the saint we honor today: the 5th century bishop of Ravenna, Peter Chrysologus.
Peter’s “golden speech” was his loving proclamation of God’s Word in straightforward and concrete homilies, of which more than 150 have survived.
Here is a portion of one of his best known:
Each of us is called to be both a sacrifice to God and his priest. Do not forfeit what divine authority confers upon you. Put on the garment of holiness, gird yourself with the belt of chastity. Let Christ be your helmet and the cross on your forehead your unfailing protection.
Your breastplate should be the knowledge of God which he himself has given you. Keep burning continually the sweet incense of prayer. Take up the sword of the spirit.
Let your heart be an altar. Then, with full confidence in God, present your body for sacrifice.
God desires not death, but faith. God thirsts not for blood, but for self-surrender. God is appeased not by slaughter, but by the free offering of yourself.
Thanks for the passage, Fr. Imbelli. Something struck me when I read this, as if I had read something very similar to it before, and I do believe it was from Origen.
I am struck by the sentence “Each of us is called to be both a sacrifice to God and his priest.” This sentence seems fully consistent with most, if not all, of the Canons fo the mass. The Eucharist is an act of the assembled community. To be surre, the ordained celebrant is the prresider and leader without whom there is no Eucharist. Nonetheless, he does not act in our name or on our behalf. Rather, he leads us in our collective act.
All this strikes me as being at odds with much of the recent talk about the difference between the ordained and the non-ordained. Certainly, there is an important and essential difference between them. But how should this difference be specified? How should this difference show up in actual liturgical practice? Should the practice stress wherever possible the differences between the ordained and the non-ordained? Or rather, should the practice stress the collective nature of the Eucharistic act? What are the pedagogical consequences of choosing the former rather than the latter or vice versa? Which approach is likely to deepen the reflectiveness of the noon-ordained about what they are doing?
So far as I can see, the stress ought to be on the collective nature. Am I wrong to think that present trends are moving in the opposite direction? If I’m not wrong about this, what is the theological justification for these trends?
Excellent sermon excerpt. Here’s another (my personal favorite, which I try to recall when the going gets tough):
“Yet how could our narrow human vision apprehend God, whom the whole world cannot contain? But the law of love is not concerned with what will be, what ought to be, what can be. Love does not reflect; it is unreasonable and knows no moderation” (Sermon 147, from the Office of Readings).
Beautiful! This Peter was deserving of the epithet Chrysologus–he is the Chrysostomos of the West. I also am delighted at the thought and inclined to agree with Bernard D.
The things one can learn on this blog! I’d never heard of Peter Chrysologus until today, and now I’ve been exposed to this saint’s homilies care of the excellent excerpts provided by Fr. Imbelli and Thomas Hart. Are the 150 surviving sermons available as a compilation?
And no offense, Fr. Imbelli, but when I first saw your caption–Participatio Actuosa–I thought it referenced one of the incantaions invented by J.K. Rowling for her Harry Potter series. Rowling often drew on Latin as an inspiration for her incantations, and I recently saw the latest HP movie, so maybe I had the film on my mind. In any event, I’ll do some corporal works of mercy as penance. ;)
William Collier,
Father William Palardy, the academic dean of Blessed John XXIII Seminary in Weston, MA, has translated the homilies in “The Fathers of the Church” Series published by Catholic University of America. Here is the blurb from Amazon:
“This volume is the third in the Fathers of the Church series to make available selected sermons of St. Peter Chrysologus (ca. 406-50), Archbishop of Ravenna and Doctor of the Church. With its publication, all of the authentic sermons of Chrysologus are now available in English. A gifted homilist, Chrysologus manifested great reverence for the Scriptures as divine communication and made them accessible to his congregation. Making use of imagery drawn from Ravenna’s natural surroundings as well as from some of the professions occupied by members of his flock, Chrysologus explained orthodox doctrine and promoted spiritual development. The Gospels occupy the foreground in most of his sermons, yet Chrysologus allows the reader a glimpse of the daily life, religious debates, political milieu, and Christian belief and practice in mid-fifth-century Ravenna.”
Hi, Bernard,
If I had to give a clear a simple answer to your question, then I would say that my view is that the mass is a celebration of the entire community – full stop. I would like to add that our celebrations should make it clear that the entire community is engaged in the act of praise and thanksgiving. If we “drill down” to a more detailed description of that community, we see that it has a hierarchical structure, and the celebration should also bring to light that hierarchical dimension.
(cf GIRM chapter 1, and also and especially paragraph 91).
http://www.usccb.org/liturgy/current/revmissalisromanien.shtml
As with many things in life, achieving this involves avoiding a couple of extremes: overly emphasizing the rights and duties of the ordained to the extent that the vast majority of the People of God are marginalized; or blurring the rightful distinctions between the various roles and offices to the point that a true picture of God’s People is distorted.
William,
Check out
http://www.archive.org/details/fathersofthechur013355mbp
for The Fathers Of The Church, A New Translation, Volume 17, Saint Peter Chrysologus Selected Sermons And Saint Valerian Homilies (1953) — free!
I was recently at a Mass celebrated ad orientem. I had a coughing fit and had to step outside, and there was the janitor, a family man and a Catholic.
He had a lot of appreciative things to say about the music at the Mass. But one of his comments struck me as especially interesting. He said that since the priest was facing the same way everybody else was, he wasn’t so much the center of attention as usual.
Exactly.
By the way, Fr. Imbelli, love the headline!
Bernard Dauenhauer, you wrote, “To be sure, the ordained celebrant is the presider and leader without whom there is no Eucharist.”
Is this statement accurate?
Based on my reading, the word ‘eucharist’ (capitalized or not) means “act of thanksgiving.” It is an action of the entire assembled Christian community. The ordained minister presides at an act of communal worship. Without the assembly, the liturgy is not, strictly speaking, communal thanksgiving. It is, instead, an act of private worship, any theological arguments to the contrary notwithstanding.
On the other hand, does it follow that without the ordained minister, there is “no Eucharist?” Kenan Osborne in his PRIESTHOOD notes that in the primitive churches, communal leadership was the basis for liturgical leadership, not the other way around. The presider was not ordained to ministry and, in fact, was a layman. He exhibited leadership skills and abilities for the benefit of the local Christian community. It was on this basis, as I understand it, that the community then acknowledged both his communal and, therefore, liturgical presidency. His leadership was understood by his fellow Christians as a gift to them from God. His leadership was not chosen but, rather, acknowledged.
Not long ago, the Dutch Dominicans suggested that if the people did not have ordained ministers to preside at Eucharist, the people could identify someone of good repute to lead the liturgical assembly in worship. It may have been Schillebeeckx (sp?) who suggested that this person be presented to the bishop for ordination and that, if the the local ordinary refused ordination, the people could simply acknowledge the de facto presider as worthy for liturgical presidency. These ideas certainly seem to conform with primitive practice and belief.
If our primitive ancesors in the faith conducted their communal and liturgical life as described, I don’t think we have any basis to conclude they were wrong and that our adoption of their ways would be somehow unorthodox. It might be nice to have ordained priests, but if Catholics are a eucharistic people, it seems their needs must come first, not adherence to canon law.
Kathy, “back in the day” when we had the old Tridentine Mass, the priest facing ad orientem was precisely seen as the center of attention — at least by those not praying their rosaries, stepping out for a quick smoke during the sermon, etc.
Presidership, according to a friend of mine, means chairing the assembly by maintaining order and calling upon the gifts of the people in terms of their participation, etc. In other words, it involves active/actual participation, not being passive or fading into the background. Based on my reading and conversations, this presidership reflects precisely the understanding of worship by primitive Christians who were closest to Jesus in space and time.
Robert Imbelli, thank you for the “straightforward and concrete” excerpt.
As an ISTJer, I appreciate this approach to human communication. It connects, it resonates.
Which is far more, unfortunately, than I can say for much of the verbiage I see coming out of Rome and elsewhere.
At least in terms of sermon style, I wish the church had more bishops like Peter Chr7sologus.
…oops, Chrysologus.
Thank you, Father.
Joseph J.,
I’m not a theologian, so I have no qualifications for entering into theological discussions. I simply assume that all the talk about the priest shortage, celibacy, etc. makes sense because ordination is essential for the Eucharist. I readily admit that i may be wrong about this, and about much else too.
Jim Pouwels,
In the abstract, your reply to me is fine. In the concrete, so far as I can see, it would be hard for anyone present at a Mass not to see that the ordained priest leads the action. By contrast, he or she might not easilly see that the congregation was integrally involved in the entire action. Giving more emphasis to the distinctive role of the ordained priest won’t, in my judgment, do much to deepen the congregation’s sense of active involvement in what’s taking place.
Bernard,
The most adequate answer to your question is found in Albert Vanhoye’s essay “Common and ministerial priesthood” (“Sacerdoce commun et sacerdoce ministériel: distinction et rapports,” Nouvelle revue théologique 97:3 [Mar. 1975] 193–207, as translated in Theology Digest 25:2 Summer 1977, 157–161) and Yves Congar’s chapter, “The Laity’s Part in the Church’s Priestly Function” in LAY PEOPLE IN THE CHURCH: A STUDY FOR A THEOLOGY OF LAITY (GEOFFREY CHAPMAN, 1965), 190-232. I can send both of these to you if you send me your email address off-list.
Blessings,
PaulBlessings,
Paul
(I just realized I could click on Bernard’s name and thereby send him the articles, which I have now done.)
Here is the gist of Vanhoye’s article:
The two priesthoods [common and minsterial] thus “differ in nature and not only in degree” (Lumen Gentium). Compared to common priesthood, ministerial priesthood is more “specific” but less “real.”—More “specific,” because the specifying note of priesthood is mediation between God and men, and ministerial priesthood is sign and instrument of Christ’s mediation.—Less “real,” because ministerial priesthood is merely a sign of reality. Common priesthood is real cult; ministerial priesthood is sacramental mediation.
All Christians (and so priests, bishops, pope) are called to exercise common priesthood. Ministerial priesthood is itself a call to real priesthood, to unite oneself to Christ’s sacrifice by offering one’s whole life to God. The gospel accounts of vocation do not separate the two: Christ at once calls his apostles to a personal commitment and gives them powers not merely human.
What must permeate the whole of existence is common priesthood, including ministerial actions. In all ministry there is both a sacramental aspect and a personal aspect, which normally belongs to common priesthood. In celebrating Mass, the priest is sign of Christ-Mediator who offers himself to the Father and unites all believers to his offering. The consecration is a ministerial action and does not depend on the priest’s worthiness. And yet the priest is called to adhere personally to the mystery.
Father Imbelli,
Thanks for publishing this fine passage from Saint Peter Chrysologus.
“In the abstract, your reply to me is fine. In the concrete, so far as I can see, it would be hard for anyone present at a Mass not to see that the ordained priest leads the action. By contrast, he or she might not easilly see that the congregation was integrally involved in the entire action.”
Hi, Bernard, FWIW – I was reflecting this morning that praying liturgy of the hours in community is, in some ways, much more democratic than the Mass, in that a much greater % of the texts are given to the people to pray/recite/sing. If our corporate liturigical life extended more to liturgy of the hours, the common priesthood might be more visible.
Also, FWIW – during the entire liturgy of the word at mass, it’s not unusual for the presiding priest to leave his chair only to stand at the appropriate times. The vast majority of the words and movements frequently are given to various other liturgical roles, ordained and lay. Even the homily can be given to a deacon.
Like Bernard, I’m no theologian either.
I do think we need to put Vanhoye’s presentation of priesthood, which reflects the norm of today’s understanding, into historical context. As Kenan Osborne in his book and Robert Egan in a COMMONWEAL article have noted, the primitive Christian communities did not have ordained ministry, i.e., sacerdotal/priestly leaders. The Christian priesthood, rather, developed over a period of several hundred years after the Resurrection.
Although Vatican II apparently retrieved an understanding of presidership from the earliest Christian experience, the bishops — based on my admittedly limited understanding — did not have (or were not allowed the opportunity?) to further develop this role of priesthood in the Catholic Church.
Perhaps we should see the Second Vatican Council as not only pushing renewal, the major theme of the council, but also setting a trajectory toward further renewal. In other words, we cannot see Vatican II within a historically limited frame of reference.
Life is change, and such is true within the life of the church, as well. If the laity in primitive churches functioned in a sacerdotal role (the presider, after all, was not a mediator between them and God), then I can’t see how we can limit the laity today to only a “common” priestly role.
It’s here that I think primitive practice and understanding must trump canon law.
Mr. Jaglowicz,
I too am dependent, of course, upon the studies of biblical and historical theologians in understanding the development of Catholic teaching regarding ordained ministry.
I would only say that it is not merely a question of “canon law,” but of the development of doctrine and the theology which articulates that development.
Thus, as you know, unlike the Protestant tradition which (in most of its forms) recognizes the two sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, the Catholic tradition (both Western and Eastern) has advocated a fuller sacramental understanding, embracing the sacrament of Orders in its triple form of deacon, priest and bishop.
Joseph,
It is an immense simplification to say that “the primitive Christian communities did not have ordained ministry, i.e., sacerdotal/priestly leaders. The Christian priesthood, rather, developed over a period of several hundred years after the Resurrection.”
I have been helped greatly by reading the first letter of the fourth pope, St. Clement, to those same Corinthians who gave St. Paul such heartaches. The younger generation of Corinthians—sure of their own gifts from the Spirit, jealous of others’ authority, and convinced that their gifts entitled them to leadership—had deposed some of their overseeing elders and assumed that they themselves could preside at liturgy.
Clement writes them about everybody keeping the place proper to each and about each individual fulfilling his/her sacred function [the Greek word is leitourgia, liturgy] on behalf of the community; “no one else can exercise it in his place, and he cannot exercise anyone else’s.” Clement compares the proper ranks occupied by Christian worshipers to the ranks of worshipers in the Old Covenant. Theologian Louis Bouyer comments:
The bishop corresponds to the high priest and his liturgy; the Levites . . . have their replica in the deacons; but what corresponds to the ancient priests (hiereis) and their function? There is no doubt that, for all of Christian antiquity, it is with the Christian laos [=laity] that the function equivalent to the priestly function of the Old Covenant corresponds. Before the end of the Patristic period, we never see hiereus (or its equivalent, sacerdos) [=priest] applied to the presbyters, our “priests of the second rank.” At the same time the word archiereus [=high priest] was always applied to the bishop as president over the eucharistic synaxis [= the Mass], as was hiereus to all the faithful [Bouyer’s emphasis]. The ancient laos, excluded from priestly functions in the Old Covenant, no longer have a corresponding term in the New. In the Church of the New Testament, all the laity are priests and exercise all the function of priests.
And where do priests, as we understand them, fit into this scheme? They assist the bishop in his presidency over the assembly. (We have to remember that for the first century or so the terms episcopos (overseer, bishop) and presbyteros (elder, priest) were ambiguous and often interchangeable.) Again, Bouyer:
The Eucharist is at once essentially collective and essentially priestly. All celebrate it together, but each individual exercises his proper function, which cannot otherwise be exercised, in accord, in “symphony” with the functions of all the others. To the bishop alone belongs presidency of the assembly, in which he is assisted by the body of presbyters. To deacons alone belongs the service that is intermediary between this presidency and the totality of the assembly: they gather the gifts of all and transmit to all the directives that will order and unify their liturgies into one service. But all have to pray, to offer, to communicate, and these are the preeminent priestly actions, although they can be exercised only with the concurrence of all the Church in one concord, of which the bishop, assisted by his presbyters is rector and guardian.
Bouyer concludes that, in all the ancient liturgies, every eucharistic celebration “includes five actions, two of which belong solely to the president . . . and the other three to all its members . . . To the ministry of the celebrant are reserved [1] the proclamation of the Divine Word, with apostolic authority, and [2] the consecration of the eucharistic banquet. But this Word is announced only to be received in [3] the prayer of all, and the consecration can have no other matter but [4] the offering of all, nor can it prepare any other end than [5] the communion of all . . . To pray, to offer, and to communicate—these are always the three essential actions in the eucharistic celebration and they belong to the faithful. And in the Roman liturgy of this time, three moments of silence were observed, which supposed the successive accomplishment by each individual of these three functions (which the three ‘collects’ of the president are limited to ‘collecting’): the oration, the secret, and the post-communion.”
This suggests to me that one way of restoring a sense to everyone in the assembly that each and every person counts is recovering those ancient silences and explaining them to the people and to presiders. I often suggest to audiences to imagine what would happen if the assembly went on strike, that is, refused to pray when the presider says, “Let us pray,” Mass would grind to a halt. Picture what would happen if the people met with stony silence the presider’s request, “Pray, brothers and sisters, that our sacrifice may be acceptable to God, the almighty Father.” The Order of Mass and the General Instruction of the Roman Missal clearly direct the people and the presider to pause for silent prayer at the collect, before the prayer over the gifts, and before the prayer after communion.
If I can suggest a middle ground between Mr. Ford’s excerpt from Louis Bouyer and the general direction of Mr. Jaglowicz’s historical references:
Vatican II did not address the schema for priesthood until the fourth session and towards the end of that last session. By then, Vatican II was coming to a close; Paul VI had already started to intervene often (the oft cited “red pen” expression); he ordered that celibacy not be discussed (which disappointed many including the eastern church members who wanted to share their experience of a married & single priesthood but most did understand that this topic could not be discussed in the open on the floor of St. Peter’s – Paul VI reserved it to himself for future comment; they were fewer bishops present in this last session.
The resulting document, Presbyterorum Ordinis, did achieve some ressourcement, development, and aggiornamento (change). It addressed the tension between seeing priests as cultic figures flowing from hierarchical power contrasted with seeing priests as more active ministers leading the community in a collegial manner. The document basically was put forth, revised, and voted on in the space of one month.
It did clarify that priest is not “sacerdos” but “presbyter” – an older, early church term that broaden priesthood beyond a strict sacramental role (which was Trent/Vatican I). It defined priest as – prophet (proclaim the Word of God); priest (intercede for the community and minister sacraments; and king (community leader/servant). It reasserted that a priest acted in hierarchical communion with the bishop. It suggests that this hierarchical understanding included notions of collegiality, fraternity, and subsidiarity.
What it also clarified – the total context or background for priesthood is “ministry” understood as servanthood (this is very different from the earlier Trentan view – ontology, canon law structure based on power). It added a strong emphasis on the Word of God in addition to eucharist, etc.
It ended with the universal goal of Vatican II – the call to holiness for all which included priests, bishops, etc. It highlighted virtues such as justice, compassion, etc. and not theological virtues as you might find in a monastery.
On the other hand, you can see that limited by time, Paul VI, circumstances, history, etc. a “full” discussion about priesthood did not happen at Vatican II; there was no positive input or feedback from the eastern church. Paul VI subsequently reaffirmed celibacy (but did add the strange notion of the western rite accepting married priests from other denominations).
Fr, K can correct my history. With Fr. Imbelli, would suggest that both of you have made good points but that we may be at a time in the church’s history where we need further theological and ecclisiological development to address the impasses we face.
Mr De Haas: Only one correction: Vatican II preferred the term “presbyter” to refer to the second-order ministers, but it also used the term “sacerdos” (priest) to refer to them as leaders of the Church’s worship.
Mr. Jaglowicz: That no Christian minister is called a priest in the NT writings is correct; that there is no ordination in those writings is not correct, as the Pastoral Epistles make clear (laying-on of hands). By the end of the second century, the threefold-ministry appears to have become universal in the Churches, and by the end of the third century priestly terms began to be used of the overssers and elders–that is, that what they had been doing in terms of leading the worship was now being called priestly. This was at the same time that the Church preserved a very strong sense of what is called the common priesthood, the priesthood of all the faithful, etc. They didn’t see either the ordained priesthood and the baptismal priesthood as a threat to one another, and neither should we. The former, of course, is in the service of the latter. But the Scripture scholars seem to agree that the common priesthood of all the faithful in the NT writings does not refer (at least not primarily) to activities in specifically cultic contexts, but to the priestly worship they offer as Christians in the world. This was very strong, for example, in St. John Chrysostom, as can be seen in his reflections on 2 Cor 9:10,
“Seeing then that we are in the enjoyment of so great grace, let us strive to exhibit a virtue of life worthy of it and to make much account of almsgiving…. For these things they ought to ask one another, and to listen to the voice of the Apostle and learn how many good things he witnesses to the Corinthians proceed from almsgiving, and to seize upon this treasure. For to despise money makes men approved, as he said; and provides that God be glorified; and warms love; and works in men loftiness of soul; and constitutes them priests, yes of a priesthood that brings great reward.
“For the merciful man is not arrayed in a vestment reaching to the feet, nor does he carry about bells, nor wear a crown. Instead he is wrapped in the robe of loving-kindness, which is holier than the sacred vestment; and he is anointed with an oil not composed of material elements but produced by the Spirit, and he bears a crown of mercies, for it is said, “Who crowns you with pity and mercies;” (Ps. ciii. 4.); and instead of wearing a plate bearing the Name of God, he is himself like to God. How? “You,” saith He, “shall be like unto your Father who is in heaven.” (Matt. v. 45.)
“Do you wish to see His altar also? Neither Bezaleel nor anyone else built it; God Himself build it; not of stones, but of a material brighter than the heaven, of reasonable souls. But [you say] the priest enters into the holy of holies. When you offer this sacrifice, you enter into even more awful places, where no one is present but “thy Father, who sees in secret,” (Matt. vi. 4.), where no one else sees….
“This altar is composed of the very members of Christ, and the body of the Lord has become your altar. Revere it, then; it is on the flesh of the Lord that you sacrifice the victim. This altar is more awful, not only than the one used of old, but even than this one which we are now using. No, don’t shout!. For this [our] altar is admirable because of the sacrifice that is laid upon it; but that altar, the merciful man’s altar, is admirable not only for that reason but also because it is even composed of the very sacrifice which makes the other altar admirable. Again, this altar is only a stone by nature; it became holy because it receives Christ’s Body; but that altar is holy because it is itself Christ’s Body. So that this altar beside which you, the layman, stands, is more awful than that altar.
“By comparison to this, then, does Aaron seem anything to you, or his crown, or his bells, or the holy of holies? But what need is there any longer to make our comparison refer to Aaron’s altar, when even compared with this altar, it has been shown to be so glorious? But you honor indeed this altar, because it receives Christ’s body; but the one who is himself the body of Christ you treat with scorn, and neglect him as he dies. You may see this altar everywhere, lying in lanes and in market places, and you may sacrifice upon it every hour; for on it too is sacrifice performed. And as the priest stands invoking the Spirit, so do you also invoke the Spirit, not by speech, but by deeds. For nothing so sustains and kindles the fire of the Spirit as does this oil largely poured out….
“When you see a poor believer, then, consider that you are looking at an altar; when you see such a one begging, not only do not insult him; reverence him even; and if you see someone else insulting him, prevent it, stop it. For thus you shall yourself be able both to have God merciful to you and to obtain the promised good things, which may we all attain, through the grace and love towards men of our Lord Jesus Christ, by Whom and with Whom, to the Father and the Holy Ghost, be glory, might, honor, now and forever, and world without end. Amen.”
Splendid passage from Chrysostom!
Thanks to everyone for a very informative thread.
Bill deH –
What do you theologians mean when you talk about “cults” these days? As a non-theologian its connotations are all highly negative to me. Also, you refer to “The Trinitarian view — ontology . . .
What does “ontology” mean here. It seems to be highly negative. (How in the world can you reject it?)
JAK –
Is “loving-kindness” the same as “compassion”? Or is it broader? Or what? I associate it with Buddhism, and so I don’t trust my meaning.
Ann: “Loving-kindness” in the King James Version usually translates the Hebrew word “hesed” and refers to God’s mercy. I should think that “compassion” would often have the same meaning, as long as the idea of fellow-suffering is not involved. In the text of Chrysostom, it is a synonym for mercy and is exemplified by almsgiving and other acts on behalf of the needy. I have just checked the Greek original and find that it is “philanthropia,” love of humanity. In any case, I suspect that “loving-kindness” was in use in the biblical sense long before it was associated with Buddhism.
Ann – not at a place where I can access my records but – R. Scott Appleby (with Martin Marty) completed the best work on “fundamentalism” which would cover “cults.” I posted a link to Appleby’s Ten Marks in one of the earlier blogs on Berg and his reaction to the LC investigation.
In terms of the use by Vatican II – remember, we are talking almost 50 years ago. Cultic is a term with a rich history in the OT, as defined by church historians, and by biblical exegetes. It is not used by the council in the way you are referring to….simply, it translates as the tradition around the Jewish priesthood which involved ritual acts, sacrifice, etc. and did not contain any notion of ministry or even community.
Ontology – part of scholastic theology. Sorry, my scholastic philosophy and theology is rusty but it proceeds from a foundation that each of us has a fundamental foundation – personhood – which is our ontological state. Ordination takes a celibate male and adds the mark of priesthood to his ontological state. This leads to more of a rigid, canon law definition of the sacraments, ordination to the priesthood, etc. It also creates issues when the human reality does not meet the scholastic structure – e.g. male chooses to leave the active priesthood – ontologically he remains a priest forever; the sacrament can not be removed. But, the church can dispense from the vows; restrict him from all active services but withdrawing any permission to minister as a priest, etc. I may have used language that was a tad negative but I was trying to contrast the Trentan definition and scholastic structure with what Vatican II developed – thus, the basic tradition did not change but our understanding of priesthood has expanded and developed.
Mr. DeHaas:
I think that “cultic” can be and is used in a more neutral sense: so that if I refer to the “cultic” functions of the presbyter, I’m referring to his role as leader of the community’s worship. As for the ontology: nothing is dogmatically defined about the nature of the character of orders, and it is quite legitimate to understand it in other terms. Louis Billot, S.J., for example, interpreted it in a juridical sense. The problem with appeals to “ontology,” in my opinion, is that people don’t explain what they mean by the term. I used to ask my students (I’ll update the example) if Barack Obama is ontologically the president of the USA. Many of them would answer No, because the day will come when he will no longer be president. So, I would ask, Is only the permanent ontological? But if you take “ontological” to mean “real,” then temporary relationships are as real, ontological, as are permanent ones. John Searle’s recent work on social ontology is useful. It can’t be said that the Catholic theological tradition has devoted much attention to the ontology of communities or societies. And that’s a pity.
Of course, for some people “ontological” is a term that should be accompanied by the beat of angels’ wings, and it means what you discover when you peer really deeply through your metaphysical microscope and discover the deep, deep reality underlying all those mere accidents: the “rockness” of rocks, say. It reminds me of what Lonergan called “the already out there now real.”
Many have also forgotten that to speak of the character of baptism, confirmation, or ordination as “an indelible mark imprinted on the soul,” is to speak metaphorically. The soul is not physical and so can’t be imprinted on. The question is: What does the metaphor mean?
Mr. DeHaas,
The issue of ontology may be condign matter for a “beer summit.”
Your statement — “the basic tradition did not change but our understanding of priesthood has expanded and developed” — is one with which I concur. But I would add that the view that contrasts a Vatican II-inspired “servant model” of priesthood with a presumed Tridentine “cultic model” is not helpful towards articulating a theologically richer understanding of the sacrament of orders.
I think the point of departure must be eucharistic: the priest’s representative role within the community that is constituted by the Eucharist. This transcends “cult” and specifies the unique service that is given.
Thanks to both of you for your clarifications and expansions on my poor attempt. Too much healthcare and not enough theology over the last 25 years.
Ann – hope this helps.
Thanks,Theologians, for the clarifications. What a knotty problem. — so many strands, linguistic, historical, and theological, and they overlap.
Paul Ford and Joseph Komonchak, thanks both for comments.
Paul, you wrote, “It is an immense simplification to say that ‘the primitive Christian communities did not have ordained ministry, i.e., sacerdotal/priestly leaders. The Christian priesthood, rather, developed over a period of several hundred years after the Resurrection.”
I must beg to differ on the basic issue as to whether the primitive church had a priesthood. Robert Egan noted in his COMMONWEAL article that the earliest Christian communities did not have priests. In addition, Kenan Osborne in his book on priesthood writes, “The early Church did not use the liturgical or sacred title of ‘priest’ [in Greek, hierus; in Hebrew, cohen] for Church ministers. Even though this title was readily available, it was evidently shunnedby the early Church for designation of its ministers. In the New Testament only the Jewish priests, Jesus [and only in Hebrews], and all the baptized are called: hierus.”
When we look at the primitive church, we see two comparisons: Just as there was the high priest in the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, so there is Jesus the High Priest in the church; and just as the Temple (before its destruction in 70 AD) had inferior priests who took the offerings of the people (animals of various kinds for sacrifice), so the people (including the presider — presbyter/episkopus) are priests who offer sacrifice of their daily lives to God. On this latter point, Joseph Komonchak illustrates it well with his quote from John Chrysostom (although this man lived a few centuries later).
As a friend told me, the presider chaired the assembly. He maintained order, and he called upon the gifts of the people at worship.
Osborne does note the following:
a. Only around 200 AD do we have an ordination ritual (Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus customarily dated about 215) that can be verified. Installation from 90 to ca. 200 AD remains a matter of hypothesis, with no historical data for verification. The episkopos in this ritual is ordained for pastoral leadership and exemplarity of Christian life. Liturgical leadership — definitely mentioned — is not the primary focus of the ordination rite. In the ordination of presbyter, providing pastoral advice to the episkopos is the central focus. No mention is made of liturgical leadership.
b. From roughly 350 to 500 AD, the Latin term ‘sacerdos’ (i.e., ‘priest’ — one who mediates between God and man and offers sacrifice to God) normally refers to the episkopos. The diversification process in which the presbyter assumes some of the liturgical functions begins in earnest between 400 and 500 AD. In the Carolingian period (751 – 987), the term ‘sacerdos’ refers as much to priest as to bishop, but most often to priest. By the 11th century, the term refers normally to priest. The presbyter, i.e., the liturgical presider in the primitive church, has become the priest.
Perhaps I should not have used the word ‘several’ as in “several hundred years…” Nonetheless, the ordained priesthood is a development in the church that takes place over roughly the first 200 years.
There’s more, but I hope this will do for now.
Robert Imbelli and Bill DeHaas, thank you, too, for your information and observations.
Although the Catholic Church has embraced the triple orders of bishop, priest, and deacon, it may help to put these ranks within their historical context (as Osborne has done in his book). They were a development in the church. As noted above, it is only about 215 AD that we have any definite ordination rites for these functions.
If we understand liturgy as the work of the assembled Christian community and eucharist as their collective act of thanksgiving, I wonder if we can accurately describe Protestant eucharists that include the “breaking of bread” and “sharing of cup” as somehow invalid. I’m moving beyond canon law here and looking at theology at its nitty-gritty. In other words, would God regard such eucharistic liturgies as invalid, less than complete, somehow defective?
This may very well be the time to move beyond established categories and question the traditional Catholic view, as I understand it anyway, that only the Catholic eucharist is valid. The Christian world may, indeed, have different understandings of “the eucharist” (as noun), but “eucharist” (as verb) would seem to challenge our assumption (or presumption?) that our eucharist is superior to the others.
The NT itself indicates that the development of ordained ministries is well underway. It would be some time before those who presided over the community and its liturgy would be called “priests.” That this process took some 200 years is perhaps not surprising. The four pillars of the catholic understanding of the Church (common to Roman Catholics, the Orthodox, high Anglicans and high Lutherans) were constructed in a process that was not universal until tthe fourth century: that is: (1) a formulation of the apsotolic creed; (2) the determination of the canon of apostolic Scriptures; (3) the shape of an apostolic liturgy; and (4) the three-fold form of the apostolic ministry. These are the pillars of historic Christianity, universally accepted until the time of the Reformation. One may wish to do away with one or another of them, say, the canon of the Scriptures, but one should not pretend that one is not tampering with traditional constituents of catholic Christianity.
Joseph Jaglowicz,
Apropos of yesterday’s second reading from Ephesians: I suggest to my students that the “new self” who is being recreated according to the image of Christ is the “eucharistic self” — the self who seeks “always and everywhere to give thanks.” A goal we approximate, but never fully realize short of the eschaton.
So I am completely in agreement with you regarding “eucharist as verb.” Thanksgiving after meals, psalms of thanksgiving, even “thank-you” notes (it was said of the late Cardinal Bernardin that he wrote thank-you notes for thank-you notes!) are all practices of the eucharistic self.
But you rightly distinguish (not separate) this from the Eucharist. Reflecting on the sacrament of the Eucharist must invoke not merely devotion but doctrine as well. Hence Joseph Komonchak’s helpful delineation of the “constituents of catholic Christianity.” The Catholic understanding of the Eucharist cannot abstract from these elements.
That said, I have been told by some, who have not formally participated in this thread, that they have found it helpful.
As one wrote to me, quoting Cardinal Newman:
“There is no greater mistake, surely, than to suppose that a revealed truth precludes originality in the treatment of it.”
Here is additional information on “priesthood” and related matters.
a. In his commentary on 1 Clement, theologian Louis Bouyer engages in the act of “foreshadowing” when he compares the Christian bishop with the Jewish high priest, the Christian laity with lower-ranking priests, and the Christian deacon with the Levites in the Old Testament. Even if one accepts this approach/interpretation, it ultimately proves nothing in terms of historical development of the Christian priesthood.
As both Robert Egan and Kenan Osborne have noted, Jesus and his disciples knew only the Jewish priesthood, which disappeared after the Roman destruction of the Second Temple in 70 AD. Available evidence describes the Twelve as healers, preachers, teachers. Osborne states, “Every study of Church ministry must begin with a study of the ministry of Jesus himself; this is the source, the model and the dynamics of all Church ministry.” Various writers have said that the ministry of the Twelve was unique and, as such, could not have been passed down in its totality to other apostles and disciples. The passing of the Twelve marked the end of a unique Christian ministry.
According to Richard McBrien (LIVES OF THE POPES, 1997), Clement wrote his letter to the Corinthians ca. 96 AD. “In Clement’s view (one not grounded in the New Testament, however), the apostles themselves had established bishops (a term he uses interchangeably with presbyters) and deacons in all places…” According to Osborne, “The naming of Christian ministers at this time was still in flux. Clement emphasizes that the ministry is one of preaching [although] mention is indeed made of a liturgical ministry….It would, however, stretch the evidence to say apodictically that in Clement the episkopoi/presbyteroi are ‘sacerdotal’ figures….[S]ome comparison is made with…Old Testament priestly figures. It is also true that Clement uses the Greek term ‘hierus’ [priest] for the Christian minister. This seems to be the first extant occurrence of the usage.” Osborne quotes R.M. Grant: “[I]t seems hard to deny that for Clement the episcopate is analogous to the office of the high priest. But if this is so, we should expect to find presbyters the equivalent of priests, and deacons the equivalent of Levites.” Writes Osborne, “These analogies are not to be found. Moreover, presbyters and episkopoi, Grant notes, are interchangeable. The emphasis is not on the sacerdotality of the ministers, but on order.” Osborne concludes, “It is not a special ordination to ‘priesthood’ which is the root for presiding over the community; rather, it is the commission to preside over the community which allows for presiding over the eucharist.”
b. About ten years later, Ignatius of Antioch, en route to Rome to face martyrdom, sends letters to various Christian communities in western Asia Minor. He describes a clearly monarchical episcopacy under which are presbyters and deacons. According to Osborne, “Because [the episkopos] is the leader over the community, he is also the leader over the liturgical worship. In other words, his leadership is not attributed to an ‘ordination.’” Presbyters function in an advisory role to the bishop. In his THE CHURCH IN ANCIENT SOCIETY (2001), the late Henry Chadwick writes, “Ignatius uses sacrificial language for the eucharist but, for the minister, he never uses the term ‘hiereus,’ priest….The priesthood of the whole Church ‘as one person’ would be stressed by Justin in the ‘Dialogue with Trypho’ (116.3): they are the ‘high-priestly race’ offering pure sacrifices as prophesied by Malachi. ‘And God accepts sacrifices from no one other than his priests.’”
In contrast to the Ignatian letters, Osborne notes that the gospel of Matthew (ca. 95 AD), “seemingly of Antiochene origin, [has] no mention of a Church leader beyond the Twelve and the apostles.” Likewise, the seven churches mentioned in Revelation (ca. 95 AD?) do “not seem to [have] an established Church structure as we find in the Ignatian letters.” Yet these communities are, at most, perhaps 200 or so miles west of Antioch.
c. In Matthew 9:13 and again at 12:7, Jesus tells his followers, “I want mercy, not sacrifice.” Given their Jewish background that seems (to me) to have stressed ritual worship and other formalities, Jesus appears to be expressing a radical wish: Get down to basics, i.e., reach out in God’s name to others in need and give them the Good News.
d. Osborne suggests that when we discuss church ministry, it helps to be mindful of the timing of the church’s beginning, i.e., what he calls the ‘ecclesiological presupposition.” According to him, “A view of a Church, instituted by Jesus during his lifetime, with the eucharist in a central position of such a Church, cannot avoid making the eucharist central to an interpretation of ministry. A view of a Church, coming into being after the resurrection, with leadership, not eucharistic presidency, as the dominant ministerial activity, will shade the interpretation of ministry quite differently.”
In this regard, the words of Paul are apropos: “Now, since our message is that Christ has been raised from death, how can some of you say that the dead will not be raised to life? If that is true, it means that Christ was not raised, and if Christ has not been raised from death, then we have nothing to preach and you have nothing to believe…..[I]f Christ has not been raised, then your faith is a delusion and you are still lost in your sins. It would also mean that the believers in Christ who have died are lost. If our hope in Christ is good for this life only and no more, then we deserve more pity than anyone else in all the world” (1 Co 15:12-14, 17-19).
If Jesus had founded the church during his lifetime but had not been raised from the dead, his disciples’ faith would have been in vain. There would have been no reason for them not to disperse and resume their previous labors. Given the resurrection, however, and the consequent credibility of Jesus’ message, the disciples would need to exercise leadership to spread this news and get nascent Christian communities off and running. As Osborne has noted, liturgical leadership was predicated on this organizing and community leadership.
e. In his FROM APOSTLES TO BISHOPS: THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE EPISCOPACY IN THE EARLY CHURCH (2001), Francis Sullivan writes: “We must conclude that the New Testament provides no basis for the notion that before the apostles died, they ordained one man as bishop for each of the churches they had founded. The only person in the New Testament whose role resembles that of a bishop is James the ‘brother of the Lord,’ who was most likely designated for his position of leadership in the Jerusalem church by his relationship with Jesus and the special appearance with which he was favored by the risen Jesus. It seems extremely unlikely that he was ‘ordained’ as bishop of Jerusalem by St. Peter. Nor does the New Testament evidence support the idea that Peter, Paul or any other apostle became bishop of any one local church or ordained one man as bishop of any local church. One looks in vain to the New Testament for a basis for the idea of ‘an unbroken line of episcopal ordination from Christ through the apostles down through the centuries to the bishops of today.”
f. Joseph Komonchak, you wrote, “That no Christian minister is called a priest in the NT writings is correct; that there is no ordination in these writings is incorrect, as the Pastoral Epistles make clear (laying-on of hands).”
Osborne devotes some attention to this issue. Inter alia, he offers the following for consideration:
+ “In all of the passages on New Testament ministries, we have no clear indication of any ordination rite. There are, of course, instances of a laying on of hands in the early Church, particularly in Acts and in 1 Tim 4, 14; 2 Tim 1, 6 (cf. also 2 Cor 8, 19 which speaks of an election). What this laying on of hands in each case of these New Testament passages might clearly indicate is arguable. Ordination, as we understand this term, does not seem to be the intent of these situations, and to read an ‘ordination’ ritual, such as one finds from the time of Hippolytus onward, would be clearly an ‘eisegesis.’”
+ “Very little Old Testament data for a laying on of hands as an installation ritual is available, and this dearth of evidence does not bolster the view that a true ‘ordination’ ritual can be found in the New Testament passages. When one realizes that between the few New Testament indications mentioned above and the ritual of Hippolytus at the beginning of the third century there is absolutely no documentary evidence for ordination, then the conjectural status of any statement on ordination prior to Hippolytus becomes even more apparent, cautioning us to avoid any apodictic approach.”
+ “In themselves, phrases which include the words ‘laying on of hands’ do not essentially include an appointment to office or ministry. A laying on of hands, in both Old and New Testaments, can be found for blessings, healings, receiving the Spirit, reconciling. In other words, ‘laying on of hands’ in itself is not a technical term for an ‘ordination.’”
g. In THE APOSTOLIC TRADITION: A COMMENTARY (2002), Paul Bradshaw, Maxwell Johnson, and Edward Phillips state, “The oldest explicit reference to presbyters sharing in the priesthood of the bishop occurs in Tertullian [ca. 155 - 225], who says that they belong to the ‘ordo sacerdotalis’ (De ex cast. 7). Cyprian [b. 200, bishop of Carthage 248 - 258 AD] similarly understood them to participate in the episcopal ‘sacerdotium’ (see, e.g., Ep. 1.1.1; 61.3.1).”
As mentioned earlier, the oldest known ordination ritual is “The Apostolic Tradition,” customarily dated ca. 215 AD. Only the ordination for episkopos includes priestly/sacerdotal language. (The ordination ritual for deacon includes some rather odd phraseology, to wit, “…because he is not ordained to the priesthood but to the service of the bishop…” Osborne surmises that this language was “placed in the text to preclude diaconal encroachment into presbyteral tasks, as also to clarify the distinctive rites.” It may also, I’d suggest, reflect a redaction process.) The ordination for presbyter, per Osborne, “has no mention of offering a sacrifice.”
In their commentary, Bradshaw et al write, “[Marcel] Metzger has argued that [The Apostolic Tradition's] lack of unity or logical progression, its frequent incoherences, doublets, and contradictions, all point away from the existence of a single editorial hand. Instead, it has all the characteristics of a composite work, a collection of community rules from quite disparate traditions…”
They continue, “We believe that Metzger’s general approach is correct, and would take it even further. Because of the features to which he has drawn attention and others that we have observed, we judge the work to be an aggregation of material from different sources, quite possibly arising from different geographical regions and probably from different historical periods, from perhaps as early as the mid-second century to as late as the mid-fourth, since none of the textual witnesses to it can be dated with any certainty before the last quarter of that century. We thus think it unlikely that it represents the practice of any single Christian community, and that it is best understood by attempting to discern the various individual elements and layers that constitute it.”
h. Several New Testament passages reveal the earliest understanding of Christian priesthood:
+ Ro 12:1
Offer yourselves as a living sacrifice to God dedicated to his service and pleasing to him.
This is the true worship that you should offer.
+ 1 Pt 2:9
But you are the chosen race, the King’s priests, the holy nation, God’s own people, chosen
to proclaim the wonderful acts of God.
+ 1 Pt 2:5
Come as living stones, and let yourselves be used in building the spiritual temple, where
you will serve as holy priests to offer spiritual and acceptable sacrifices to God through Jesus
Christ.
+ He 13: 15-16
Let us, then, always offer praise to God as our sacrifice through Jesus, which is the offering
presented by lips that confess him as Lord. Do not forget to do good and to help one
another, because these are the sacrifices that please God.
+ Phil 2: 17-18
Perhaps my life’s blood is to be poured out like an offering on the sacrifice that your faith
offers to God; if that is so, I am glad and share my joy with you all. In the same way, you
too must be glad and share your joy with me.
+ Rev 1: 5-6
He loves us, and by his sacrificial death he has freed us from our sins and made us a
kingdom of priests to serve his God and Father.
+ He 7: 26-27
Jesus, then, is the High Priest that meets our needs….He is not like other high priests; he
does not need to offer sacrifices every day for his own sins first and then for the sins of the
people. He offered one sacrifice, once and for all, when he offered himself.”
i. In his FROM SYNAGOGUE TO CHURCH: PUBLIC SERVICES AND OFFICES IN THE EARLIEST CHRISTIAN COMMUNITIES (1992), James Burtchaell writes that “well before” the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 AD, “[t]he local synagogues had already chosen to deny priests any special privileges or position….The priesthood had anciently been associated, not simply with sacrificial worship, but with the interpretation of the Torah and with judicial discipline….[I]n the villages and towns and cities, where priests in plenty dwelt and were available, a totally lay synagogue organization had long since decided it needed no legitimacy which the priests could give….[As a result], priests were not officiants at any synagogue activity. There were still some rituals explicitly assigned to them by the Law, and these they presumably retained: receiving the five-shekel redemption money for each first-born son, reciting certain blessings at worship services, receiving tithes on produce, and performing certain purification rituals. The ‘kohanim = hiereis’ = priests would form a cadre of identifiable members in any synagogue, to whom biblical imperatives reserved certain ritual actions, but to whom no further deference on the part of the community is in evidence. They had minor hereditary prerogatives but cannot be considered officers of the community. Jerusalem, as it turned out…, was not merely the only place where priests might preside at sacrifices; it was the only place where they presided at anything.”
j. In light of the close relationship between sacred orders and worship in the Catholic Church, it helps to acknowledge the fundamental changes in, and popular understanding of, the liturgy that occurred in the first millenium. Liturgical change would be accompanied by changes in popular understanding of the role and identity of presider/priest. Nathan Mitchell, in his CULT AND CONTROVERSY: THE WORSHIP OF THE EUCHARIST OUTSIDE MASS (1982, 1990), summarizes this development: “Worship changes because people do, [but] the fundamental shape of the eucharist has survived: we still take, bless, break, and give bread and cup.” Gradually, these “ritual verbs” would be “inserted into a new liturgical genre (drama instead of meal, allegory instead of symbol) [and] absorb different meanings and inspire different interpretations [that would] come into conflict with one another. This happened, surely, when the ancient symbols of dining together, obviously intended as invitations, to ‘eat’ and ‘drink’ at the eucharist, gave way to ‘ocular communion’ — the desire to ‘see’ the host. The bodily symbolism of ingestion and nourishment was all but overpowered by the visual symbolism of ‘gazing at the Beloved.’”
k. In his COMMONWEAL article, Robert Egan suggests that “[i]f evidence of ‘Jesus’ way of acting’ were to be consistently normative, it’s hard to see how we could justify having a priesthood at all.”
l. Osborne has a brief section in his book on “Leo XIII and the Question of Anglican Orders” (beginning at p. 294). One cannot do justice to his observations in this thread. Suffice it to say that perhaps the old expression “People in glass houses should not throw stones” might be appropriate in our considering the Catholic Church’s official condemnation of Anglican orders.
m. Felix Just, SJ, PhD provides a nice outline of ancient church ministry on his website. In particular, you may wish to visit the following:
+ “Ministry and Leadership in Early Christianity”
http://www.catholic-resources.org/Bible/Ministry.htm
+ “Disciples and Apostles in the New Testament”
http://www.catholic-resources.org/Bible/Disciples.htm
n. In considering the role and identity of priestly ministry, I think Egan’s quote from Bernard Lonergan is quite appropriate: “The meaning of Vatican II was the acknowledgement of history.” Perhaps it’s time for another paradigm shift here, a return to the understanding of priesthood from cultic-authoritarian to servant leader.