Participatio Actuosa in the Current Magisterium: Guest Article by Fr Peter Stravinskas (Part 2)

We continue with the second part of a paper by Fr Peter Stravinskas, originally delivered at the CIEL conference in Paris in 2003. The first part examined the question of how the famous words “actuosa participatio” in Sacrosanctum Concilium were originally meant to understood; this second part continues with its treatment after the liturgical reform, and particularly, the continued emphasis on interior disposition.  Our thanks once again to Fr Stravinskas for allowing us to reprint the article here on NLM.

Taking on the rearing of iconoclasm’s ugly head in modern guise, Paul VI addressed the Pontifical Commission for Sacred Art on 17 December 1969. Therein, he rehearsed Church teaching on sacred art, revisiting Nicaea II, Trent and Vatican II:

Their (sacred images’) purpose is to raise the spirit beyond the figure to what the figure stands for. . . . The Church entrusts art with a mediating role, analogous, we might say, to the role of the priest or, perhaps better, to that of Jacob’s ladder descending and ascending. . . . The Liturgy superbly fulfills this (artistic) vocation in both beauty of form and profundity of content. . . . The alliance between art and the life of religion will also succeed in giving again to the Church, the Bride of Christ, a voice that love inspires and that inspires love. . . . As always, we must begin with the education of the person.

The Holy Father reflects a strong incarnational sense here, seeing beauty as bearing a meaning beyond its own objective value. Once more, he connects liturgical significance to “the education of the person.”

Cardinal Villot picked up that theme in comments made to the Italian bishops’ committee on the liturgy for the 21st Italian Liturgical Week (4 September 1970): “There is cause for comfort in the increased measures to bring about a deeper knowledge of the Liturgy and an ever more intelligent, active, and personal participation by the faithful in the rites of the Church.” Was this his honest appraisal of the situation or wishful thinking? It is hard to tell, but there is no mistaking the linking of proper catechesis to any true actuosa participatio.

The Sacred Congregation for the Clergy presented the Church with the landmark General Catechetical Directory on 11 April 1971. In tackling our theme, we find that catechists ought to be engaged in “forming the minds of the faithful for prayers, for thanksgiving, for repentance, for prayers with confidence, for a community spirit, and for understanding correctly the meaning of the creeds. All these things are necessary for a true liturgical life.”

In a general audience on 22 August 1973, Paul VI spoke about the preservation of “Latin, Gregorian chant,” and prayed, “May that be God’s will.” He linked this intention up to full liturgical participation.

The ill-advised Directory for Masses with Children made its début on 1 November 1973, but even there we find this salutary reminder: “In all this, it should be kept in mind that external activities will be fruitless and even harmful if they do not serve the internal participation of the children. Thus religious silence has its importance even in Masses with children. The children should not be allowed to forget that all the forms of participation reach their high point in eucharistic communion, when the Body and Blood of Christ are received as spiritual nourishment” (n. 22). Then quoting the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, n. 23, it repeats: “Even in Masses with children, ‘silence should be observed at the designated times as part of the celebration,’ lest too great a place be given to external action. In their own way, children are genuinely capable of reflection” (n. 37).

Iubilate Deo, which provided a basic repertoire of Latin chants and hymns deemed essential for every parish community, was promulgated on 11 April 1974; this document was presented to the whole Church as a way of implementing Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 54, “that the voice of the faithful be heard in both Gregorian chant and vernacular singing.” The musical dimension was hit upon again by Cardinal Villot in an address to the 21st National Congress on Sacred Music (13 September 1974): “All the parts of the Mass are in themselves already a form of evangelization, because they revivify faith and transform into adoration. But in singing and music, the parts of the Mass can find a powerful and expressive way to foster the participation of the faithful.” Noteworthy, too, are the references to evangelization and adoration.

In a general audience on 26 March 1975, Pope Paul returns to our theme, this time relying on both Scripture and St. Thomas Aquinas:

But there is an essential difference in the liturgical drama. . . . In contrast, the liturgical drama not only brings to mind again Christ's deeds but reactualizes His salvific action (see ST 3a , 56.1 and 3); . . . as He is the always active source of our salvation. . . . In any believer who participates in the Liturgy there is no sense of remoteness or of being on the outside. Consequently, in celebrating the Paschal Mystery, the believer is taken into and overcome by the dramatic power of the “hour” of Christ, “my hour” as he called it.

Later that year (6 August 1975), exactly three years before his death, the Holy Father gave a very fully developed appreciation of what is entailed in liturgical participation:

The Liturgy is a communion of minds, prayers, voices, agape or charity. Passive presence is not enough; participation is required. The people must see in the Liturgy a school for listening and learning, a sacred celebration presented and guided by the priest, but in which, as a gathering of hearts and voices, they join by their response, their offerings, their prayers. . . . Remember that Liturgy is believing, praising in song, alive to earthly experience, on pilgrimage toward the celebration of the eternal revelation.

Finally, on 6 June 1976, Paul VI sent a message to the bishops of the United States, commemorating the bicentennial of the nation. He urged the bishops to bring their people “to a deeper realization of the centrality of the Eucharist in their lives and of their need to participate therein,” and “to a profound sense of reverence for the eucharistic mystery.” He recalled for priests “their special duty: sancta sancte tractanda.” This dimension of worship, he said, is connected to “the very holiness of God, of Jesus Christ, (which) demands reverence and profound respect.”

Three years later (4 October 1979), Pope St John Paul II, during his first pastoral visit to the United States, reminded priests in Philadelphia that “all our pastoral endeavors are incomplete until our people are led to the full and active participation in the Eucharistic Sacrifice. . . .” Throughout his pontificate, the Holy Father underscored numerous elements of what he understands by “full and active participation.” To cite them individually would be nearly impossible and would overload the circuit unnecessarily, especially since they reiterate the very elements presented by the Magisterium of the 20th century.

What is interesting, however, is to look up the topic of participation in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. The references deal with how we participate in the Lord’s Paschal Mystery (e.g., nn. 618, 654, 668, 1006). The Catechism links our participation in a definitive manner to the Sacred Liturgy, especially the Sacraments of Baptism and Holy Eucharist. We are taught that “grace is a participation in the life of God. It introduces us into the intimacy of Trinitarian life: by Baptism the Christian participates in the grace of Christ” (n. 1997, emphasis in the original). This grace likewise brings about our “participation. . . in Christ’s mission as Priest, Prophet and King,” particularly through Baptism and Confirmation (n. 1546). We also learn that Baptism confers “the sacramental character that consecrates (us) for Christian religious worship.” It goes on to speak of how this “enables and commits Christians to serve God by a vital participation in the holy Liturgy of the Church and to exercise their baptismal priesthood by the witness of holy lives and practical charity” (n. 1273). All this is brought to its culmination in the Eucharistic Sacrifice: “This ‘how’ exceeds our imagination and understanding; it is accessible only to faith. Yet our participation in the Eucharist already gives us a foretaste of Christ’s transfiguration of our bodies” (n. 1000). How is this so? Because “the Liturgy is also a participation in Christ’s own prayer addressed to the Father in the Holy Spirit. In the Liturgy, all Christian prayer finds its source and goal. Through the Liturgy the inner man is rooted and grounded in ‘the great love with which (the Father) loved us’ in His beloved Son” (n. 1073). An awareness of Christ’s unique presence in the Eucharist “moves us to an ever more complete participation in our Redeemer’s sacrifice which we celebrate in the Eucharist” (n. 1372).

We should notice, therefore, how all our attention is focused on interior dispositions, rather than merely external postures, gestures and other such activities (as important as these are for body-soul unities to worship). Why might this emphasis be given? I venture to say that the experience of two decades of liturgical confusion and frenzy caused the editors of the Catechism to attempt to balance the matter in favor of fundamental truths that had been lost in the post-conciliar shuffle – at least at the practical level or lived experience of the average person in the pew.

For several years, Angelo Cardinal Sodano sent letters to the annual liturgical conferences in Italy, which in later years took a decided cautionary turn. And so, we read the following sent on 2 August 2001:

. . . it is necessary to keep in mind the particular nature of the Sacred Liturgy. As the Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium of the Second Vatican Council explained, “every liturgical celebration, because it is an action of Christ the Priest and of His Body, which is the Church, is a sacred action surpassing all others. No other action of the Church can equal its efficacy by the same title and to the same degree” (n. 7).

He continues:

According to the famous statement, used for the first time by the Magisterium in the motu proprio, Tra le Sollecitudini (22 November 1903) of Pope St. Pius X, the Constitution on the Liturgy desires: “that all the faithful be guided to that full, conscious and active participation in the liturgical celebrations, which is required by the very nature of the Liturgy” (n. 14). Today this participatio actuosa (active participation) of the faithful is sometimes reduced to their performing some liturgical ministry. However, the Council wishes to invite all believers to take part, consciously and actively, in the liturgical prayer itself, by offering to God the sacrifice of praise and adoring Him “in spirit and in truth” (Jn 4:23).

Once more, the interior dimension is highlighted.

Surely we cannot ignore Holy Thursday of 2003, when Pope John Paul II promulgated Ecclesia de Eucharistia on the silver jubilee of his accession to the Chair of Peter. It is not an exaggeration to suggest that the entire encyclical can be viewed as an essay on the meaning of genuine participatio actuosa. He mentions three serious obstacles to full, conscious and active participation: liturgical abuses (n. 10); lack of full ecclesial communion, both visible and invisible (n. 35f); the presence of grave sin in a participant (n. 37). All of Chapter Five is devoted to “the dignity of the eucharistic celebration” as he considers how the interior and external aspects of Christian worship should interact, including art, music, architecture and liturgical discipline. It was in reference to that last item – liturgical discipline – that the Holy Father took the occasion to announce the preparation of a “juridical” document confront the abuses which have marred the life of the post-conciliar Church. In a powerful line, he declares: “No one is permitted to undervalue the mystery entrusted to our hands. It is too great for anyone to feel free to treat it lightly and with disregard for its sacredness and universality” (n. 52).

At the end of his encyclical, we hear echoes of the words he spoke to the priests in Philadelphia at the beginning of his pontificate:

Every commitment to holiness, every activity aimed at carrying out the Church’s mission, every work of pastoral planning, must draw the strength it needs from the eucharistic mystery and in turn be directed to that mystery as its culmination. In the Eucharist, we have Jesus, we have His redemptive Sacrifice, we have His Resurrection, we have the gift of the Holy Spirit, we have adoration, obedience and love of the Father. Were we to disregard the Eucharist, how could we overcome our own deficiency? (n. 60)

And then comes the clarion call to live the mystery of the Eucharist in all its fullness:

The mystery of the Eucharist – sacrifice, presence, banquet – does not allow for reduction or exploitation; it must be experienced and lived in its integrity, both in its celebration and in the intimate converse with Jesus which takes place after receiving Communion or in a prayerful moment of eucharistic adoration apart from Mass. These are times when the Church is firmly built up and it becomes clear what she truly is: one, holy, catholic and apostolic; the people, temple and family of God; the Body and Bride of Christ, enlivened by the Holy Spirit; the universal sacrament of salvation and a hierarchically structured communion. (n. 61, emphasis in original)

Finally, he takes on the pernicious dichotomy between the head and the heart introduced by the Enlightenment (1), following Blaise Pascal’s trenchant observation, “The heart has reason that reason knows not.” “If, in the presence of this mystery,” he says, “reason experiences its limits, the heart, enlivened by the grace of the Holy Spirit, clearly sees the response that is demanded, and bows low in adoration and unbounded love.” He then turns to St. Thomas Aquinas, whom he describes as “an eminent theologian and an impassioned poet of Christ in the Eucharist,” urging us to “turn in hope to the contemplation of that goal to which our hearts aspire in their thirst for joy and peace” (n. 62).

Participatio Actuosa: A Synthesis and a Re-direction

On October 8, 2033, Francis Cardinal Arinze, in his capacity as Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, addressed the national meeting of the Federation of Diocesan Liturgical Commissions in San Antonio, Texas. I think he admirably summarized the picture I have been trying to sketch when he asserted, “It is important that the internal aspect of participation is indispensable as a basis, a requirement and the aim of all external participation. That is why personal prayer, scriptural meditation and moments of silence are necessary.” And even more to the point: “A sense of reverence and devotion is conducive to interiorized active participation.”

The Reverend Michael R. Carey, O.P., offers a succinct explanation of the terms of the debate and excoriates what he calls “liturgical activism.” He maintains that our participation “is conscious in that it engages the rational part of our soul – mind and heart. It is active in that it also engages our body. But the main point is that it must not be merely active, but full.” Good Dominican that he is, he expands on the question, relying on the Angelic Doctor:

So, a first principle of active participation is that whatever we do bodily should be a sign of what ought to be happening in our souls. For this, we have to look to what we are doing and to the words we are praying. Are we listening to the Word of God? Then it is appropriate to sit. Are we humbly beseeching God? Then it is appropriate to kneel. Are we contemplating after Holy Communion the Lord we have just received? Then it is appropriate that we close our eyes and bow our heads in silent prayer.

He seals his argument in this fashion: “External acts which inhibit or contradict the natural movements of the soul in prayer are simply wrong, and will instinctively be felt to be wrong.” (2)

As I read that last line, I was reminded of a conversation I had with a Sister who informed me she had just finished preparing her second-graders for their First Holy Communion. I said she must be thrilled and proud. She replied, with great sadness in her face and in her voice: “Father, I have taught them everything the Church wants them to know and believe about the Holy Eucharist, but I just have the impression that they do not believe what I believed at their age.” I then asked her about eucharistic practices in her parish. Like most parishes in the West, just about anyone distributes Holy Communion to anyone in any position and in any degree of disposition. Until those situations are dealt with, I told the nun, her children will never be able to believe what she believed and, hopefully, still does believe. Why? Because our praxis is under-cutting our theology. The interior participation is not allowed to flower because of external modes of participation which are problematic.

What, then, is the image of participatio actuosa with which to conclude? That of another Dominican, Colman E. O’Neill. More than three decades ago, he offered the following definition:

(It is) that form of devout involvement in the liturgical action which, in the present conditions of the Church, best promotes the exercise of the common priesthood of the baptized; that is, their power to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass with Christ and to receive the sacraments. It is clear that, concretely, this requires that the faithful understand the liturgical ceremonial; that they take part in it by bodily movements, standing, kneeling or sitting as the occasion may demand; that they join vocally in the parts which are intended for them. It also requires that they listen to, and understand, the Liturgy of the Word. It requires, too, that there be moments of silence when the impact of the whole ceremonial may be absorbed and deeply personalized. (3)

What has been suggested by Father O’Neill is no more and no less than what Aristotle would have referred to as a “catharsis,” namely, that a would-be spectator so enters into the dramatic action that he becomes a participant. And I think the word we have been searching for is not “active” but “actual.” To illustrate the validity of this suggestion, let me finish with this scenario.

You have decided to go to the opera for Puccini’s Madame Butterfly. You have paid your hundred dollars or euros and have a superb seat. The orchestra is outstanding. The sets are splendid. The performances are stellar. You are so drawn into the action that you completely identify with the protagonist, experiencing all the emotions the composer envisioned. In short, by the end of the work, you have run out of handkerchiefs and tissues. The only drawback, however, is that you did not get up on the stage and sing the final, heart-tugging aria yourself. I ask you: Did you have a genuine experience of catharsis in the Aristotelian sense? Was it an example of participatio actuosa? I believe it was. Was it “active” participation? I think not. What was it, then? I submit it was that form of real participation which we should call “actual.” And that, I further submit, is the kind of participation the post-conciliar Magisterium has had in mind. May it become a reality in our day.

Footnotes:
(1) For a fine discussion of this problem and for some healthy remedies, see: Stratford Caldecott, “The Heart’s Language: Toward a Liturgical Anthropology, Antiphon, 2001 [Number Two].
(2) “Active Participation Again,” The Priest, July 2003, 32.
(3) “The Theological Meaning of Actuosa Participatio in the Liturgy,” in Sacred Music and Liturgy Reform after Vatican II. Rome: Consociatio Internationalis Musicæ Sacræ, 1969, 105.

Participatio Actuosa in the Current Magisterium: Guest Article by Fr Peter Stravinskas (Part 1)

The following paper was originally delivered at the CIEL conference in Paris in 2003; we here present it in a modified form with the permission of the author, Fr Peter Stravinskas. In it, he examines the question of how the famous words “actuosa participatio” in Sacrosanctum Concilium were originally meant to understood. The second part will appear on Friday, arguing that “actual” participation better expresses the mind of the Church and the Magisterium after the Council and the liturgical reform. We are grateful to Fr Stravinskas for allowing us to reprint the article here on NLM.

Many of our problems in the contemporary Church can be laid at the doorstep of a mistaken notion of participation – liturgical and otherwise. The Latin adage says, “Discimus docendo.” And that has surely proven true as I went about the preparation of this paper. I knew that the “participatio actuosa” of Vatican II had a long pedigree, indeed, all the way back to Pope St. Pius X. I thought, however, that rendering it as “active participation” was just a mischievous English translation, only to discover that at least all the Romance languages have the equivalent translation.1 My next suspicion was that using the equivalent of “active” in the various vernaculars was a modern attempt to create a new vision or reality through linguistic manipulation. Once more, an historical search revealed that “active” was the word of choice going back to translations of Pius X’s landmark document, Tra le Sollecitudini.

That said, I am still going to suggest a better translation of actuosa, at least for our moment in history. Perhaps “active” did not carry all the baggage it does today. At any rate, it seems to me that if Pius X or the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council had wanted to say “active”, they could have used activa, but they didn’t; they used actuosa.

What, then, is the difference between actuosa and activa? The methodology of this paper will be to “back into” my suggestion for a more appropriate vernacular rendering of actuosa by reviewing the use of participatio actuosa over the past forty or so years, so as to come up with a picture of what the contemporary Magisterium has had in mind. Then, we can settle on a word that might more adequately capture the reality.

Participatio actuosa in Historical Perspective

Monsignor Richard Schuler, an eminent student and promoter of the Sacred Liturgy as well as an accomplished musician, has traced out for us a good deal of the historical background to this important phrase, and I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to him for this. (“Participation” Sacred Music, Winter 1987) As noted earlier, the first magisterial use of our expression occurs in Tra le Sollecitudini, wherein the Pope observes: “. . . the faithful assemble to draw that spirit from its primary and indispensable source, that is, from active participation in the sacred mysteries and in the public and solemn prayer of the Church” [emphasis added]. Twenty-five years later, Pope Pius XI in Divini Cultus opined that through the restoration of Gregorian chant to the people, “the faithful may participate in divine worship more actively” [emphasis added]. Pope Pius XII in Mystici Corporis [1943] and in Mediator Dei [1947] likewise used the term. In 1958, the Sacred Congregation of Rites in De Musica Sacra distinguished several levels of participation. We find the following: “The Mass of its nature requires that all those present participate in it, in the fashion proper to each.” First of all, this participation should be “interior”, that is, union with Christ the Priest. The participation becomes plenior if the interior participation is yoked to external participation [e.g., gestures, posture, responses, singing]. The highest degree of participation is achieved when sacramental participation is added to the other forms.

The Conciliar and Post-Conciliar Vision of Participatio Actuosa

One might arguably say that the most-cited and perhaps the most-misunderstood text of the Second Vatican Council is the following from the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy: “Valde cupit Mater Ecclesia ut fideles universi ad plenam illam, consciam atque actuosam liturgicarum celebrationum participationem ducantur, quæ ab ipsius Liturgiæ natura postulatur. . . .” That has come into English as: “Mother Church earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that full, conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the Liturgy” [n. 14].

The conciliar use of participatio actuosa takes for granted the understandings of the term as I have just outlined them. Oddly, though, Sacrosanctum Concilium employs our expression without providing a single reference as to its source or history – almost as if it were a novel concept.

The same article observes that such participation by the Christian people is their “right and duty by reason of their baptism.” The passage goes on to speak of this actuosa participatio as the primary goal of all liturgical renewal, which will endow the faithful “with the true Christian spirit.”

Lest we get too far afield, however, let us return to the vision set forth in article 14. A context is given for it three articles earlier, where we read: “But in order that the Liturgy may possess its full effectiveness, it is necessary that the faithful come to it with proper dispositions, that their minds be attuned to their voices, and that they cooperate with divine grace, lest they receive it in vain.”

Most realistically, the Council Fathers note “pastors must therefore realize that when the Liturgy is celebrated something more is required than the mere observance of the laws governing valid and lawful celebration; it is also their duty to ensure that the faithful take part fully aware of what they are doing, actively engaged in the rite, and enriched by its effects” [n. 11]. And how will this occur? The clergy “themselves must become imbued with the spirit and power of the Liturgy and capable of giving instruction about it” [n. 14]. And hasn’t that all too often been the very problem with our liturgical life in the post-conciliar era? Indeed, could we not even refer to this as a locus classicus of the trahison des clercs?

Subsequent articles flesh out just what is envisioned for this program of actuosa participatio. Thus, we read in article 30: “To promote active participation, the people should be encouraged to take part by means of acclamations, responses, psalmody, antiphons, and songs, as well as by actions, gestures, and bodily attitudes. And at the proper time a reverent silence should be observed.” Eighteen articles later, this is spelled out in even greater detail:

The Church, therefore, earnestly desires that Christ’s faithful, when present at this mystery of faith, should not be there as strangers or silent spectators. On the contrary, through a good understanding of the rites and prayers they should take part in the sacred action, conscious of what they are doing, with devotion and full collaboration. They should be instructed by God’s Word, and be nourished at the table of the Lord’s Body. They should give thanks to God. Offering the immaculate Victim, not only through the hands of the priest, but also with him, they should learn to offer themselves. Through Christ, the Mediator, they should be drawn day by day into an ever more perfect union with God and with each other, so that finally God may be all in all.

Clearly, no kind of shallow or superficial “participation” is being advocated. Nor is any type of frenetic activity anticipated or encouraged. Even the Consilium, in its document restoring the Universal Prayer or Prayer of the Faithful, on 13 January 1965, stresses the importance of “participation through silent prayer.”

A little more than a month after Sacrosanctum Concilium, Pope Paul VI promulgated Sacram Liturgiam [25 January 1964], wherein he pleaded with bishops “to set at once about teaching their people the power and the interior worth of the Sacred Liturgy, taking into account their age, condition in life, and standard of religious culture,” with the hoped-for result that “their shared knowledge will enable the faithful to take part in the religious services together, devoutly, body and soul.”

Pope Paul was quite exercised about ensuring the proper implementation of the Council’s liturgical document, never missing an opportunity to share its vision with clergy and laity alike. In an address to the pastors of Rome on 1 March 1965, he said: “You must be convinced that the objective is to reach the heart of today’s people through the Liturgy as the truest, most authoritative, sacred, and effective way and so to rekindle in them the flame of love for God and neighbor, the awesome, intoxicating power to commune with God – authentically, consolingly, redemptively.” Less than a week later [7 March 1965], he explained to a group of lay faithful that the Church had embarked on this liturgical reform, “so that you may be able to unite yourselves more closely to the Church’s prayer, pass over from being simply spectators to becoming active participants.” Inexplicably, he saw this goal necessitating, in his own words, the “sacrifice” of Latin!

A year later, during a homily at a Roman parish [27 March 1966], the Pontiff informed the congregation: “A second undertaking of the Council is the reform of the Liturgy, and in a most beautiful and fruitful direction. The Council has taken the fundamental position that the faithful have to understand what the priest is saying and to share in the Liturgy; to be not just passive spectators at Mass but souls alive; to be the People of God responsive to Him and forming a community gathered as one around the celebrant.” Within ten days, he took the occasion of his general audience during Holy Week [6 April 1966] to assert: “If there is any liturgy that should find us all drawn together, attentive, earnest, and united through a participation that is ever more full, worthy, devout, and loving, it is the Liturgy of Holy Week.”

Prescinding from some judgment calls Paul VI made, one can see a consistent trajectory of thought on his part: The participation of the faithful needs to be interior as well as exterior, arising from personal faith and knowledge and bringing about an ever deeper life of faith and holiness.

From this time forward, one also finds the Holy Father becoming much more cautious and reserved in his praise of liturgical developments. Thus, in an address to a national congress of liturgical commissions, on 4 January 1967, he warned that the primacy of the sacrament itself “does not in any way justify arbitrarily stripping Church-established worship of the sacral and aesthetic forms that surround it and present it to the People of God. Such a course would do more than cast aside the elements of art gracing divine worship; it would trivialize the meaning of the mystery celebrated, undermine the principles of community prayer, and could lead ultimately to doubt or even denial of the reality of the Sacrament of the Eucharist.”

Musicam Sacram, promulgated on 5 March 1967, offered a most balanced depiction of our topic:

The faithful carry out their proper liturgical function by offering their complete, conscious, and active participation. . . . This participation must be: a. internal, that is, the faithful make their thoughts match what they say and hear, and cooperate with divine grace; b. but also external, that is, they express their inner participation through their gestures, outward bearing, acclamations, responses, and song. [n. 15]

Tres Abhinc Annos, issued by the Sacred Congregation for Rites on 4 May 1967, indicates that reports from bishops around the world attest to “increased, more aware, and intense participation.” One might have hoped that such an assessment was an accurate reflection of the reality; having been a boy in high school at that time, that is certainly not my recollection. Indeed, as catechesis began to fall on hard times, we were less aware than ever of the mysteries being celebrated.

It would seem officials in that dicastery may have been less impressed by episcopal assurances than first meets the eye, for within a month, Eucharisticum Mysterium makes its appearance. Article 5 addresses our area of concern by underscoring the Congregation’s notion of what is involved in participatio actuosa:

The active part of the faithful in the Eucharist consists in giving thanks to God as they are mindful of the Lord's Passion, Death, and Resurrection; offering the spotless Victim not only through the hands of the priest but also together with him; and, through the reception of the Body of the Lord, entering into the communion with God and with each other that participation is meant to lead to. . . . All these things should be explained to the faithful in such a way that in consequence they share actively in the celebration of the Mass by both their inner affections and the outward rites, in keeping with the principles laid down by the Constitution on the Liturgy.

Do not miss the strong emphasis on a participation which springs from a clear understanding of a truly Catholic appreciation of the eucharistic mystery – the whole point of the document.

In yet another general audience address [19 November 1969], Pope Paul highlighted his hopes for the liturgical renewal: “The result anticipated – or better, longed for – is the more intelligent, more effective, more joyous, and more sanctifying participation by the people in the liturgical mystery” [emphasis added]. Again, the internal aspects occupy center stage.

Jean Cardinal Villot, as Secretary of State, in December 1969, sent a message to the 12th International Congress of Les Petits Chanteurs:

A few words may be said about the liturgical aspect. A more immediate and active participation in the Liturgy calls for and even demands a sense of the sacred, a knowledge of the significance of the feasts, liturgical seasons, and rites. . . . Preparation of this kind is a necessary prerequisite for the opening of the spirit to the knowledge of what singing as the service of God is meant to achieve. . . . The singing will become a true harmony to the degree that it is a blending of skilled technique and of a genuinely religious spirit that allows the voice to become the devout expression to the soul.

While the Cardinal was addressing choristers, his insights apply across the board. Notice certain key phrases: “a sense of the sacred,” “knowledge of the significance,” “preparation,” “service of God,” “a genuinely religious spirit,” “devout expression to the soul.” Are these not the very elements whose loss is experienced and so lamentable in all too many post-conciliar liturgical events?

On 30 January 1969, L’Osservatore Romano took a rather unprecedented step in publishing an article by the Reverend Hubert Jedin, renowned scholar of the Reformation and the Council of Trent. Entitled, “Crises in the Church,” it delineates three crises: of the liturgy, of authority, of the Faith. Of course, these three are inextricably bound to one another. I wish to quote him in some detail because I think he really captured significant aspects of our question. Writing before the final liturgical reforms were enacted, he says, “Only with great circumspection would I wish to express my opinion about the liturgical crisis.” Not at all opposed to liturgical reform, he nonetheless warns:

A liturgical renewal which proceeds step by step with a deepening of our concept of the Church can be regarded as one of the most important processes in the history of the Church of our century, as the overcoming of formalism which for many years has prevented the development of the liturgical life. A famous liturgist said, when the new Easter Vigil was introduced: “Now the ice age is over.” But let us remember: Liturgy is a disciplined service of God, a common actio of the celebrant and the community. The previous or concomitant reading of the texts of the Mass by the community is not the only, nor the most important form, of active participation (actuosa participatio) in the carrying out of the Liturgy; the decisive form is the interior participation of the faithful in the sacrifice and in the eucharistic meal.

He goes on: “Let us also remember this, that the Constitution of the Council on the Sacred Liturgy [nn. 22, 23] demands that all reforms take account of the sana traditio, the sound tradition, and that the venerable heritage of the tradition. . . should not be lightly jettisoned.” He sums up his analysis in this way: “The Catholic divine service is both mystery and catechesis. As mystery, it is and remains impenetrable to our reason, and this fact cannot be changed in the least by the translation into the vernacular.”

Why have I spent so much time citing a non-Magisterial source? Because I have a suspicion that his article’s publication in L’Osservatore Romano was anything but happenstance and, further, that Magisterial statements thereafter adopt his approach with much greater clarity and force, as should become evident as we proceed in our survey of texts.

A Note on Participation: What Can We Learn from the Word Actuosa?

When discussing participatio actuosa back in December, I had made a claim (which others, too, have made before me) that actuosa meant “actual” more than “active.” Latinist friends of mine were quick to point out that my claim was linguistically dubious. Whitaker’s Words defines actuosus as “active, busy, energetic, full of life; acting with extravagant gesture.” Forcellini’s authoritative lexicon says that actuosus “properly is one who is totally engaged in the act or motion of the body…such as an actor and a dancer, who for this reason are called actuosi.”

As a result, I rewrote the pertinent paragraph of the article as follows:

The most notorious victim of this process of journalistic simplification has been the notion of “active participation” or participatio actuosa. The word actuosa itself is very interesting: it means fully or totally engaged in activity, like a dancer or an actor who is putting everything into the dancing or the acting; it might be considered “super-active.” But what is the notion of activity here? It is actualizing one’s full potential, entering into possession of a good rather than having an unrealized capacity for it. In contemporary English, “active” often means simply the contrary of passive or receptive, yet in a deeper perspective, we see that these are by no means contrary. I can be actively receptive to the Word of God; I can be fully actualizing my ability to be acted upon at Mass by the chants, prayers, and ceremonies, without my doing much of anything that would be styled “active” in contemporary English.

I am glad to have been corrected and to have made this revision, because it seems to me that the semantic range of actuosus, as well as its context in the document, makes the case for a different translation than “active” not weaker but stronger.

In everyday speech, the word “active” tends to connote activism, in the sense in which the Americanists excoriated by Leo XIII in Testem Benevolentiae exalted the “active” virtues of secular engagement over what they called “passive” virtues, such as contemplation. In the liturgical sphere, “active” has been wielded like a sickle to cut down various modes of receptivity, the alert absorption of listening, the silence conducive to meditation.

What we need to recover, therefore, is that deeper sense of engagement that begins and ends with interior activity — faith leading to contemplation, contemplation feeding the flame of charity—for which the usus antiquior is so well suited. As Aristotle had shown long ago in the Nicomachean Ethics, the most intense human activity is contemplation.

Since Sacrosanctum Concilium establishes that participation is first and foremost interior and then is further expressed and solidified through external actions such as singing responses and adopting postures, it is clear that the Council Fathers did not intend to use actuosa to mean “hyper-external-activity.” They intended to underline what Pope Pius XI had already said decades earlier, namely, that the faithful should not be inert spectators at Mass, but should enter into it with mind, heart, and body. In a forthcoming Foreword to Fr. Samuel Weber’s Proper of the Mass, Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone offers the following gloss:

Perhaps a better word to express this teaching of the Council (“actuosa” in the original Latin) is “engaged”: we are present to the liturgical action, allowing it to seep down into the depths of our consciousness. Thus, in speaking of the “restoration” of the sacred liturgy, the Council fathers articulated their vision of restoring the liturgy to what it was always meant to be: Catholics at Mass engaged in understanding and praying the liturgy with heart and mind, and this active engagement expressed in their reciting and singing the parts of the Mass proper to them, rather than sitting (or kneeling, as the case may be) as passive observers, saying their own private prayers. That is, personal devotion is to enhance one’s full, active and conscious participation at Mass, not substitute for it.

Actuosa bespeaks a profoundly (one might even say totally) active response that goes beyond superficial sayings or gestures, beyond the moving of the mouth or hands, to the motions of the heart. Participatio actuosa calls forth a total response, beginning from the mind, involving memory, imagination, and external senses, ending in the soul. People are to be fully engaged with all their faculties of body and soul, in this regard quite like a ballet dancer or a Shakespearian actor. Actuosa essentially says: Be as active as you can be in the activity of divine worship, which is first and foremost interior (after all, only intellectual beings can worship — brute animals, plants, minerals, are excluded from that noble activity) and becomes external when and as appropriate for each category of participant.[1]

Notice this wonderful truth: everyone can be doing everything in the Mass interiorly, even though external actions are notably and necessarily differentiated. For example, only the priest elevates the host, while only the laity come forward to receive communion. Externally we are differentiated, as is just and right for a hierarchical mystical body such as the Church that visibly mirrors the hierarchical order of the human body itself and of the cosmos. But interiorly we are united by the one font and apex of all that we are, all that we do, and all that we suffer. The external diversity is at the service of the interior unity, just as the difference of sexes is for the sake of the unity and fruitfulness of marriage.[2]

The great theologian whom I hope future generations of Catholics will matter-of-factly refer to as "the Doctor of the Liturgy," Joseph Ratzinger, calls to our attention a particularly modern problem:

That which is truly great grows unnoticed, and silence at the right moment is more fruitful than the constant activity that only too easily degenerates into spiritual idleness. In the present age, we are all possessed by a strange restlessness that suspects any silence of being a waste of time and any kind of repose as being negligence. We forget the real mystery of time, the real mystery present in growth and activity. That mystery involves silence and stillness. Even in the religious sphere we tend to expect and hope for everything from our own activity. We use all kinds of exercises and involvements to evade the real mystery of interior growth before God. And yet in the religious sphere receptivity is at least as important as activity.[3]

Louis Bouyer's definition is therefore perfectly on target: “Participation in the liturgy is the reception of sacramental grace through a living faith illumined and enflamed by the liturgy itself.” Note how this definition highlights grace, faith, receptivity, illumination, and ardor — the spiritual ingredients of holiness. As Ratzinger says:

The real “action” in the liturgy in which we are all supposed to participate is the action of God Himself. This is what is new and distinctive about Christian liturgy: God Himself acts and does what is essential.[4]

On which Cardinal Malcolm Ranjith's comment can fittingly serve as our conclusion:

This kind of participation in the very action of Christ, the High Priest, requires from us nothing less than an attitude of being totally absorbed in Him. … Active participation, thus, is not a giving way to any activism but an integral and total assimilation into the person of Christ who is truly the High Priest of that eternal and uninterrupted celebration of the heavenly liturgy.[5]

NOTES

[1] For those who wish to read more about the authentic meaning of participatio actuosa, I highly recommend this classic article by Msgr. Richard Schuler.

[2] This reflection helps us to see, once again, the profound disharmony introduced by extraordinary ministers of holy communion, who are laity assuming a clerical function, which introduces a clash between the external action proper to the clergy, which is to come down from the altar to give the divine food and drink to the faithful, and the action proper to the laity, which is to come forward towards the altar to receive that food and drink. The actions are contrary and complementary.

[3] Joseph Ratzinger, Dogma and Preaching, trans. Matthew J. O'Connell (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1985), 78.

[4] Joseph Ratzinger, The Spirit of the Liturgy, trans. John Saward (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2000), 173.

[5] Malcolm Ranjith, "Toward an Ars Celebrandi in Liturgy," Adoremus Online Edition, March 2009, vol. 15, n. 1, printing the transcript of his talk at the Gateway Conference in St. Louis, November 8, 2008.