“It is of no small matter if a person sometimes does
reluctantly what he should really do gladly (e.g., attending Mass every
Sunday),” wrote Hans Urs von Balthasar, “for there is hope that eventually he
may be moved to do it spontaneously, out of an inner desire.”
But don’t blame the how the Mass is celebrated if you’ve
been feeling down in the dumps spiritually, saieth the folks at The Word Among Us:
Over and over, we hear about people who have stopped going to Mass because they don’t feel that they get anything out of it. Often, however, this happens when the outer ‘form’ of the Mass—the quality of the music, the appearance of the church, the various words and gestures of the liturgy—becomes more important than the inner ‘substance’ of what is going on.
(N.B. Don’t you love it when an anonymous author throws
around the royal “we” to play up a sense of authority? I’d like to know from
whom “we” were hearing. And how “we” felt qualified to reach such a sweeping
conclusion.)
At any rate, I think the WAU
author, though well intentioned, is papering over some significant issues. If
contemporary Mass is your thing, then stop reading. Pick up your Takamine
acoustic and strum you some spirituals.
Growing up Catholic in the ‘70s was a tough slog: ugly
churches with in-the-round seating, jangly-guitar renditions of “Michael Rowed
the Boat Ashore,” and, memorably, a one-man theatrical presentation of the
Passion. It seems the only thing the priests didn’t do was wear gold Century 21
blazers. Yeah, that was fun. It’s no wonder that the first thing I did as a
fully emancipated adult was to … leave the Church behind. Even today, back in
the fold as I have been, the thought of a contemporary Mass is like fingernails
on a chalkboard:
My point is that form is as important substance. The Novus
Ordo Mass, for good or ill, rises or falls on the piety of the priest, in
collaboration with laity. The Mass suffers when the priest is just going through motions. When the entire celebration is banal, the encounter between
the congregants and Christ becomes attenuated, if not lost. The Mass is not
about the “everyday,” any more than wearing a white tie and tails is about
going to Taco Bell. If we are sharing in an event of the greatest significance for the world—and, by the way, we are—it stands to reason that splendor must attend
divine worship.
But if the Church continues to pare awe and reverence from
the Mass, if she continues to de-value the significance of the encounter with
the Real Presence, of course people are going to treat Mass like a Rotary Club
meeting (which, ironically, is probably an insult to Rotarians).
For example:
Sunday Mass during the Easter Season, of course, begins with the
sprinkling rite. A few years ago, at my parish, I noticed the words of the
time-honored hymn “Vidi Aquam” for that rite had been replaced by “Springs of
Water, Bless the Lord.” I never learned who made that change or why, but I do
know the latter sounds awfully more prosaic than the former. To this day, I
can’t even sing the words. Whereas the term vidi
aquam brings the need for penitence sharply into focus, by contrast, “Springs”
sounds more like an advertisement for bottled water.
Ecclesial architecture is also important. Quite frankly,
it’s tough to muster up a sublime frame of mind needed for worship while in a
building with jamboree-style seating. There is even one church I know of in
which the congregation sits elevated above the altar, apparently for those who
want a Sanhedrin experience.
To be fair to WAU,
a lapsed or non-practicing Catholic will often hide behind complaints about the
Mass as an excuse for not attending. That certainly seems to have been the case
for Joseph Campbell, the author and comparative religion professor, who once
told Bill Moyers that he left the Church for good after the Paul VI Mass was
instituted. Putting aside for a moment the fact that Campbell was probably on
his way out anyway, his point was that the ancient Latin Mass, with its archaic
language and rites, was effective in preparing the Catholic to receive the
Eucharist.
Amen to this article!! The ancient Greeks understood that outward form habituated our inward orientation. Thus, it was necessary to act virtuously so that virtue might become habitual. Yet somewhere along the line, Mother Church seems to have adopted the contemporary idea that it matters less what you do than what you feel.
ReplyDeleteWhile I cannot make a judgment on the degree to which a priest is enthusiastically celebrating the Mass, I need only look around to get a sense of how seriously the Mass is being taken. My Church is a beautiful church, about 120 years old, built in very much the old style. Yet, what do I see?
Candles on the altar only some of which are lit. Lights above the altar,only half of which are turned on in seemingly random patters - as if someone could not find all the light switches. Doors to the confessional left open. Mass often not starting on time.
Any one of these things is a minor matter. Indeed, arguably none is important to the central issue of the celebration of the Mass. Yet the overall impression is unmistakable. Slipshod, shoddy, half-done, careless.
The congregation is expected to think of the Mass as the centerpiece of their Faith. Hard to do when the Church itself reminds one of the junk drawer in one's kitchen.
.