Is Modern Man “Incapable of the Liturgical Act”?

In 1964, “forty-six years after the publication of his seminal work, The Spirit of the Liturgy, and just after the promulgation of Sacrosanctum Concilium, Romano Guardini reflected on the challenges of the Liturgical Movement in a letter to a Congress on the Liturgy in 1964.” [1] He famously claimed that Modern Man is “no longer capable of a liturgical act”:

Is not the liturgical act and, with it, all that goes under the name of “liturgy” so bound up with the historical background – antique or medieval or baroque – that it would be more honest to give it up altogether? Would it not be better to admit that man in this industrial and scientific age, with its new sociological structure, is no longer capable of a liturgical act? And instead of talking of renewal ought we not to consider how best to celebrate the sacred mysteries so that modern man can grasp their meaning through his own approach to truth? [2]

In the same letter, Guardini states:

The question will arise whether our present liturgy contains parts which cannot mean much to modern man. I remember a conversation with the late Abbot Ildefons Herwegen of Maria Laach, the great champion of liturgical renewal. We had been considering various aspects and I said a sign that the work for liturgy was really coming to life would be a liturgical crisis, and Abbot Herwegen thoughtfully agreed.[3]

While Guardini himself only a few years later would dismiss the Consilium’s drafts as “plumber’s work,” it would be impossible to exaggerate the harm he himself caused by the remarks he made in the 1964 letter, which seemed to suggest, as many other semi-modernists had done, that the entirety of Christian liturgy from as early as Constantine, and certainly no later than the Middle Ages onward, was irrelevant, useless, inaccessible, ready for the scrap heap. What is surprising is that a theologian of Guardini’s stature, who was so attuned to the sacred liturgy's “irrelevance” and “uselessness” (properly understood) [4], was able to embrace this kind of chronological relativism.

On the one hand, we might sympathize with Guardini to this extent: the liturgical reform seemed to be premised on the idea that if the liturgy as it stands “isn’t working,” then all we need to do is redesign it — find a “working” model — pack it up, ship it out, and roll it off the skids to the expectant populace. In this vision, the problems are all on the side of the liturgical rites; it is not men who need to be reformed, but only the rites.

Yet what if the problem is in man? If he were judged to be incapable of the liturgical act, then he would be incapable of any liturgy, whether it comes from the scriptorium of Gregory the Great or the desk of Annibale Bugnini. He might be capable of something else, like a Bible study, a soup kitchen, prison ministry, or volunteering for scouts, but the leitourgia, the sacrificial action of one on behalf of the many [5], will not have any purchase in his individualistic world. In that sense, perhaps the avant-garde liturgists underestimated the challenge they were up against. It’s not about “tweaking” something to get it to “work” better, much less of piling on more and more Scripture so that one can check off a box that says “Bible is being read—done.” For it is not the reading or the text, the chant or the ritual, that is a problem, but the modernity of modern man, which prevents him from engaging, cosmically, symbolically, ascetically, and mystically, with the very realities Scripture is about, and short of which it fails of its aim.

“More than words: Signs, symbols, metaphors”

On the other hand, in defense of the common man, it might be asked: Why should we buy this typically pessimistic German view to begin with, reminiscent of Wotan lamenting the ineluctable collapse of Valhalla, the Götterdämmerung? To say that moderns are not able to be liturgical in the same way that all men prior to them have been is a path leading to despair: as if man were now a different species that requires a different religion, that is, a different system of signs ordered to divine worship. This subterranean despair was part of the motivation for the Novus Ordo. It led to the belief that a simplified, abbreviated, intelligible, vernacular, communal celebration will obviously appeal to modern man, who is incapable of vertical, theocentric, densely symbolic, archaically uttered ritual. But this seems to be basically false, and has led to a massive falling-away, as well as to the surprising resilience of the old rites that were supposed to be outdated and unapproachable.

The truth that is really inevitable is not Guardini’s fatalism, but an acknowledgement of the requirements of human formation. Just as we cannot give ourselves permission to stop teaching each new generation how to speak, how to read, how to write, and how to think, so we must not fail to immerse ourselves in ritual that is uncompromisingly ritualistic, for this is the logic, grammar, and rhetoric of revealed religion, in both Testaments and in the history of the Church. It enjoys a universal anthropological basis that makes it always learnable, but since it is rather strange within rationalistic modernity, it is now more capable, not less capable, of confronting us with the transcendence of God, which calls us out of our comfort zone, as Abraham was called from Ur of the Chaldeans. When people have the sense that in the liturgy they are entering the domain of the sacred, somehow stepping into the realm of the divine, then their ears will begin to open to listening to the words of God in Scripture. The focus, the starting point, has to be elsewhere than Scripture. That is exactly contrary to where the reformers, in their homotextuality (so to speak), wanted to place the emphasis.

Another way of seeing this is to look at the repetitiousness of the old rite, much maligned of course by the reformers. In “Repetition Is the Mother of a Great Many Things,” I discuss the value of the frequent use of the same pericopes and verses of Scripture (and non-Scriptural texts) in the traditional liturgy precisely as a method for making us deeply familiar with the words. Eventually these words, or many of them at any rate, will be memorized; they come to live within us, forming our consciousness as the floor, walls, and ceiling of our inner architecture. The way to get modern Christians to take Scripture more seriously would be to take memory more seriously, and to preach and teach about ways in which our modern way of life is sapping or emptying our memories of what is divine and filling them with what is secular, profane, and, at times, diabolic. Once again, what modern man needed and still needs is what traditional liturgy rites and practices give him, not something newly fashioned à la Guardini.

Learning the old liturgy in the midst of ruins

It is also true, and I will be the first to admit it, that without some catechesis, whether outside of liturgy or in the homily, most modern people will not be able to grasp enough of the message of liturgy to get a good grip, a good foothold, for making further progress. In that sense, education simply cannot be bypassed. Dignified and beautiful liturgy can accomplish immense good, even conversions from atheism or paganism; but for most people, entering deeply into all that the liturgy has to offer is going to require at least some investment of work, slowly, over a long period. And it has always been so; there’s a reason St. Benedict speaks of the opus Dei, the work of God. It is work that, as the Holy Rule stresses, requires repetition, study, and expertise, though — as Guardini rightly says — it is also the highest-level play, since it does not have an ulterior motive, an end for which it is merely a means.

Let us return to our starting point. Guardini said that modern man could no longer perform the liturgical act. This was taken by many in the later phase of the Liturgical Movement as an indisputable truth and a warrant for unlimited experimentation, with the goal of equipping the liturgy to elicit or solicit the “correct” participation from the faithful. Ironically, what happened instead is that the liturgical act was transformed into its opposite: the celebration of the community itself by itself. In a strange twist, Guardini’s dour assessment was not disproved by the Novus Ordo but inculcated by it: what had been a risk of missing the properly liturgical became a habit of missing it with confident ease. In short, it is above all the reformed liturgy that has made modern men, to the extent humanly possible and divinely permitted, incapable of performing the liturgical act.

NOTES

[1] Editorial introduction at Corpus Christi Watershed.
[2] “1964 Letter from Romano Guardini.”
[3] See Christopher Carstens, “Romano Guardini Was Careful What He Asked For: A Liturgical Crisis.”
[4] See Fr. Daniel Cardo, “At Prayer in the Fields of the Lord: The Playfulness of the Liturgy.”
[5] See William Daniel, Christ the Liturgy (Brooklyn: Angelico Press, 2020), 1-39, on the correct meaning of the term leitourgia.

Visit Dr. Kwasniewski’s website, SoundCloud page, and YouTube channel.

Christ Becomes the Mystagogical Catechist through the Mass

Book review: A Devotional Journey into the Mass - How Mass Can Become A Time of Grace, Nourishment, and Devotion, by Christopher Carstens (pub. Sophia Institute Press).

In this book (available here), Christopher Carstens, who is also the editor of Adoremus Bulletin, takes us through each key element of the Mass, from entering the church through to our response to the dismissal). Grounding his discussion in the sacramental thought of Romano Guardini, he takes us on a journey into the heart of the liturgy which, in the principles he articulates, is applicable to the Ordinary Form, the Extraordinary Form, and the Anglican Ordinariate form of the Roman Rite. (Sophia Institute Press also very kindly provides a free printable summary of the major points in two pages, available here.)

“If you’re unhappy because the Mass has become for you routine – or even boring and tedious – these pages are for you. They teach you eight simple ways to make your every Mass a joyful time of piety and intense devotion.” This is how the publisher describes the appeal of this book. I would add to this that Carsten’s approach is the basis for a mystagogical catechesis that will allow us to participate, so that the Sacred Liturgy as a whole itself becomes the primary force for continual mystagogy. As such, I would see it as a natural complement to any authentic Catholic education, such as described in the book on children’s education I reviewed recently, Educating in Christ.

By emphasizing the sacramental nature of the Mass so profoundly and in such simple and clear language, and by showing its deep connection to Scripture and salvation history, it is, in my opinion, a foundational text for an approach to mystagogical catechesis that could reap rewards for a lifetime.

I appreciated particularly, for example, his emphasis also on lectio divina as a preparation for the Scripture that is proclaimed in the readings at Mass. Firstly, he de-mystifies it with simple and clear instructions on the method. Secondly, and just as importantly, he highlights how this exercise in meditation and contemplative prayer is consummated in the worship of God. It is not a higher activity, but one which, like all other activities that are not liturgical, derives its power and effectiveness from the liturgy, and so, in turn, leads us back to it for its consummation. To help us, Carstens explains beautifully how our personal pilgrimages are a participation in that which takes place in the story of salvation history, running through Old and New Testaments. This is a useful point for the evangelization of New-Agers and non-Christians who are looking to Eastern religions in a search for mystery. I would say that their desire to meditate is good, but will be even more powerful and effective if transformed to be harmony with its true place in the spiritual life.

I was gratified to read how strongly he makes the point that this is not just about the words. All art and even the architecture of the church building must reveal these universal truths in such a way that they are communicated to each person, and so act as clear perceptible signposts that direct us on our way. To the degree that we respond to what is offered, we can ourselves be formed as artists who then fashion our very lives to the template of the Paschal Mystery.

To take one example of how images can support this: some will remember my discussion on why the image of the three children in the fiery furnace in the book of Daniel is important for Christians. Through this book, Carstens enriched my own understanding and appreciation of this image even further with his detailed discussion of the Scriptural account of this episode, and its importance to the Mass. As he tells us, “its message, as well as its central text (Daniel 3, 39-40), is present at every Mass during the preparation of the altar and its gifts. This is truly right and just because the three youths exemplify the only true way for the Church to prepare for the Eucharistic sacrifice.”

I enjoyed the following passage about the priesthood. “There are a few words that the Roman Rite uses to describe its priests and one of them is pontifex. In Latin the noun pons means bridge... and -fex is the foundation of today’s word factory, the place where things are built. Put the two words together - pontifex - and you get bridge-builder, which is precisely what a priest is; his role is to bridge the divide between God and man and pass over from earthly woes to heavenly blessings. Christ is the Pontifex Maximus. Even though he does not need our assistance in his saving work, He makes us sharers in His priesthood at baptism, empowering us to build the Paschal bridge with Him during the Eucharistic prayer.”

My hope is to be formed as one of many such supernatural bridge-builders who are capable of forming an edifice that spans the divide between the liturgy and the culture of faith, and then, between the culture of faith and the wider culture; and further, that the cuture of faith can become a channel of divine beauty, bringing it from its source out into world, so that grace might be reflected in all human activity and every artefact that results from it. However, none of us can play a part in this if we don’t first come in from the dark, and “pass over”, so to speak, that bridge called the “Paschal mystery“ which connects us to the wellspring of grace and beauty, Christ present in the Eucharist.

Order the book here.

Christopher Carstens is the editor of the Adoremus Bulletin and one of the Liturgy Guys (along with Denis McNamara and Jesse Weiler) who create regular podcasts for the Liturgical Institute at Mundelein. He is also on the faculty of Pontifex University, for whom he has created an online class on the meaning of the Mass as part of the Master of Sacred Arts program.

March Adoremus Bulletin

The latest edition of the Adoremus Bulletin is now out; you can read it online here.

This is a particular rich and attractively designed issue. The Adoremus Bulletin does really seem to have new vibrancy to it under the leadership of the new editorial team of Chris Carstens and Joe O'Brien. Highlights include an article about the mystagogy of the Lamb of God by editor Chris Carstens, supporting another article which analyses the Ghent altarpiece, also known as the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb, as liturgical art; that is, how do its form and content work in the context of the liturgy? The Ghent altarpiece is the second most viewed painting in history, and the article has been prompted by the release of a book about the painting, a 15th century by the Van Eyck brothers, published by Magnificat.

There is also an excellent review, written by Mr Jeremy Priest, of Uwe Michael Lang’s new book Signs of the Holy One, published by Ignatius, which is a meditation on the assertion that the non-verbal symbols associated with the liturgy are more significant than the language itself. Follow link here to read it.

The January Edition of the Adoremus Bulletin is Now Out.

The latest Adoremus Bulletin is now out and can be read online immediately. This is a particularly varied and strong issue. Even the presentation of simple news events is made through the prism of the liturgy in interesting and informative ways. Two articles caught my eye.

The first, by Christopher Carstens, is a discussion of the proper form of language in the liturgy, with a particular reference to the poetic device of repetition. 

The second, in the light of the introduction of Holy Doors in our cathedrals, was a clear and simple explanation of indulgences. I admit that indulgences have been peripheral to the practice of my faith up until now, something I had never really thought about in depth. Each time I heard a priest telling us that if we did something we would be given a “plenary indulgence,” I made a mental note to try again to make the effort to understand what this was about...only to forget about it until the next time I heard the word. You can read the whole issue online here.

Latest Edition of the Adoremus Bulletin Now Out

I would like to draw our readers’ attention to the latest edition of the Adoremus Bulletin, which has recent got a new lease on life under a new editor, Christopher Carstens.

December 8th marked the 50th anniversary of the close of the Second Vatican Council, and to mark that occasion, this edition has a long article by Fr Douglas Martis, the outgoing director of the Liturgical Institute at Mundelein, in which he assesses the impact of the council on the liturgy. Fr Martis is clearly very active at the moment - his videos on the Mass have been featured on this site too.

You can see  the bulletin online by following the link: http://adoremus.org/issues/Adoremus_Bulletin_2015_November.pdf. The Adoremus website is adoremus.org.

The September Edition of the Adoremus Bulletin

We have just heard that the latest edition of the Adoremus Bulletin is available. As usual there are many points of interest concerning the liturgy; in particular, details of preparations for the liturgies during Pope Francis’ upcoming visit, and some information about the new translation of the Order of Confirmation.

One piece that caught my eye is the reproduction of an article by Virgil Michel, OSB, written during the Depression, entitled City or Farm? In it he describes the importance of an awareness of nature and man’s place within it. He was an advocate of back-to-the-land movements in the context of the typical cityscape of 1939. He describes how people were so unaware of where their milk came from that a cow was paraded through the streets of one metropolis in order to show them.

In thoughtful commentary which accompanies it, the Adoremus Editors point out that this is a subject important “not only for its own relevance to the life of grace generally, but as a topic supremely relevant to the celebration of and participation in the Church’s sacred liturgy”. The glory of nature directs man to God, reflects the pattern of our worship, and inspires us to want to do so.

Some may feel that the cities of 2015 are not much better - I guess it depends on which city and which part the city we want to focus on. I can think of cities at both ends of the spectrum. Nevertheless the points that Virgil Michel makes will almost certainly resonate with many today, if the reactions to my recent article about gardening and Christian environmentalism are anything to go by! I think that the editors hit the nail on the head when they comment on this and say “...it must be acknowledged at the same time that the city is also a key locus for the Christian faith. It is toward the heavenly city of Jerusalem that we journey. (Rev. 21:2)”

For my part, I think that the answer to the question, “City or Farm?” is neither one nor the other, but both. The ideal is a society in which each has his part to play and this incorporates city and farm...and garden! This is the glory of man in harmony with the rest of creation, in which both the culture and the cultus (field) point to the cult (the liturgy), and each is derived from the forms contained within the liturgy.

The link to the Adoremus website is here; while the link through to the online presentation of the Bulletin itself is here.

The cover image of the bulletin shows a wall panel from the Newman Center at Lincoln, Nebraska. I love this depiction of the dove of the Holy Spirit, with the Romanesque style design behind it, an image which speaks to the discussion on the Sacrament of Confirmation.

and here’s the full panel in situ:

A New Home for the Adoremus Bulletin

From The Badger Catholic comes the following news about Adoremus: Society for the Renewal of the Sacred Liturgy, which had suspended publication of the Adoremus Bulletin after the death of long-time editor Helen Hull Hitchcock. After some uncertainly about the future of the Bulletin, a new issue has just come out, in which (inter alia) the announcement is made that Christopher Carstens, director of the Office of Sacred Worship for the Diocese of LaCrosse, Wisconsin, and a faculty member of the Liturgical Institute at Mundelein Seminary, has taken over as the new editor. The publication will henceforth be based in LaCrosse; Mr Carstens writes in the recent issue about the futures plans, including a great expansion into social media. Our best wishes to him and all those involved with the publication of the Adoremus Bulletin, as they continue Mrs Hitchcock’s valuable legacy.