Catholic Voice

Participatio actuosa

By Fr David Jones, DD.Published: Wednesday, 29th September 2010

  


 

            This is an expression[1] which has caused much ink to flow in recent decades. It is worth  scrutiny, as it might reveal unexpected surprises.

            We recall that the shared intuitions of the experts that constituted what came to be known as the Liturgical Movement were orientated primarily towards a change of attitude towards sacred liturgy, rather than revolutionary changes in its received form. The changes envisaged regarded essentially those areas which needed adjustment in view of making possible the application of this eventual change of attitude.

            To understand the thinking behind this, it is enough to recall that in some areas, during the month of October it was customary to “give out” the Rosary during low Mass itself. Hence a progressive re-education as regards the very concept of liturgical prayer can rightly said to have been called for.

            Let us examine first where we are coming from. The fact is that in the years preceding the Vatican Council the average believer desirous of experiencing elevating liturgy could find one of the parish celebrations which truly lifted his heart and mind to God, and allowed him to separate his soul from the banal and the profane, for a solid hour.[2] We are talking of the principal celebration of the week, the High Mass, in which the Western believer had access to the Beyond in terms which placed him nearer the mystique of the East than that of the Protestant West.

            In the interests, it was said, of favouring active participation, all obstacles to what it was thought to consist of were progressively removed. The result in many places was the elimination of the High Mass and the introduction of the Protestant hymn and prayer sandwich[3] to the normal Catholic parish setting, with the difference that the hymn was sung not by the assembly but by a schola that possessed the necessary expertise to execute the repertoire of modern music considered politically correct, and that toleration, for pastoral reasons, did not extend beyond one or two verses, lest the sacrosanct time element be infringed.

            As time went on, the practice originally restricted to the campus of popular devotions was extended to that of the liturgy itself. Hence it is that we find two characteristics today very dominant in any normal setting: active participation in practically every word, including those restricted to the celebrant, and execution of every henceforth shared word at the speed characteristic of popular devotions.

            Let is examine some of the areas covered by this participation. The first is the wording of the liturgy itself. By now it is most difficult to preside without finding that practically everything from the words accompanying the sign of the Cross to the final Blessing are recited chorally by all present. All, it seems, presume that they may absolve and bless; in some areas know and recite the secret prayers of the celebrant; certainly all know and recite those that are always audible, without the exclusion of parts of the Canon. In many cases the Celebrant has to add the Amen to the prayer for peace, since all are presiding at that point, except himself.

            If we look at the liturgy of the Word, we find that in practice, in the interests of active participation, everything prior to the Gospel is to all intents and purposes sacrificed. The preliminaries of the celebration are despatched at the pace of the nervous layperson who seems to have as primary objective that of reaching the end.

            The notion of chant,[4] inherent in the very concept of a psalm or acclamation is again sacrificed in the interests of participation in all the parts remotely within the grasp of the non-ordained. And as for the general intercessions, the possibility of prayer is generally excluded by the insistence on its being led by someone who similarly has the end of the reading in view.

            As for the praying of such moments as the Agnus Dei, it is generally excluded by the insistence that all say it, and therefore at a decent pace (lest the worst happen, namely that the celebration be prolonged). And as for the sacred moments of Eucharistic Communion, the interests of the people require that the essential of the parish life be handled at that moment, since silence is a propitious moment for making announcements, either by priest or by worthy (lay-)representative.

            Moreover, the participation is seen to be effectively active only when the moods of the celebrating community are expressed by its response to remarks made (applause) or by the use of imagination in the gifts offered in kind, duly commented upon by a competent layperson.

            However, it need not stop there. True participation involves sharing all the ministries not restricted to a celibate person. And because of equal rights, the dominant elements cannot but be female. Hence it is that ladies, dressed in full liturgical gear (trousers, or interesting dresses) have the right to hold the Blessed Sacrament after the manner of concelebrants from before the Ecce Agnus Dei (despite the Congregation’s instructions on the matter), not to mention that of consuming what remains of the Precious Blood after the people’s Communion and of purifying the chalices (despite the indications of the Institutio Generalis, and the withdrawal of the American indult by the present Holy Father). And hence it is that many a priest who, concelebrating or otherwise, presents himself in unliturgical garb (alb and stole) for distribution of the Sacred Species finds himself warmly invited to sit quietly (to avoid offending one of the many most extraordinary ministers who have the fullness of Eucharistic minister’s status and are duly clad for the occasion).

            It makes, as we know for active participation, as indeed does every invitation given to the non-ordained to take the microphone or the key-board. Indeed many of our separated brethren are duly edified by the way in which the hymn and prayer sandwich has been surpassed in the levels of participation accessible to the formerly retarded Roman Catholics.

            However, not all of them witness a participation equal to that which they know, on another plane. In the Nonconformist setting, so important is the reading of the Word of God that only the ordained minister may presume to read the unique and carefully selected reading on which will be based the sermon (yes, sermon), the essential of which is not its brevity. And never could there be a question of a non-ordained person leading the community in the solemn and intense moment of prayer which follows the second hymn (all the verses of which will have been sung, and indeed relished, and by all and sundry, especially sundry). Leading in prayer is regarded has a specific charism of the ordained, and his quality is assessed in part on his possession of it.

            We are getting to the point. Is there a case for saying that it is not a question of seeking the maximum in regard to participation, but rather the optimum? And does the participation of one, incompetent, not risk of allowing his participation to the exclusion of the deeper participation of all else in the assembly?

            Here we are approaching the crux of the matter. What is participation? And what did the Council Fathers intend by using the expression active participation? Is the pious soul who finds himself lifted to something beyond him at a moment of high musical of liturgical beauty not to be said to be participating actively, though with his mouth for once shut, while another, in an unstoppable flow of words is to be classed as truly conciliar in his participation?

            Are we closed to the Beyond by our diminishing our distance from it? Are we richer in our religious experience by our inexperience of it? Do we know more about liturgy by not having access to its plenitude?[5]

            And there is more to it again. It is highly probable that by this stage in Christian history the majority of sacramental communions, at least in the West, are sacrilegious. Much participation, on the level of taking (always more actuosa than receiving) the Lord’s Body, is to be witnessed, at anything from weddings to funerals), and a good time is had by all, with the help of many a competent DJ, but can there be participation in the Lord’s life and intimacy, or praise offered to His glory, when His Lordship is not concretely recognized, either in the immediate field of liturgical obedience or in that of coherence in the greater sphere of life of which worship is the religious quintessence?[6]

            A soul in a state of mortal sin (come on, you don’t really believe there still is such a thing, do you?) cannot participate in actively glorifying His Creator? Why? Because he, not the Creator is in charge of the show.

            And that is what we are at, should that be the case. The show, my friends, contains maximal participation. But I am reminded of a remark made in 1971 by a holy maid who has long since passed on to God. She had come across a passage of Newman while yet a Protestant: “The Catholic Church is a field surrounded on every side by bits of itself.” She closed the book, and walked over to the Catholic presbytery to ask for instruction. One day, while showing me her worn missal, she noticed the pages of the Canon which were of a different colour. These, she explained were showing the traces of what she referred to as the gift of tears. Succinctly, she added, “We don’t get that gift any more.”

            Of course, she was unenlightened.

 

                                                                                               

             

              



[1] The expression is, however, classic. Pius X called for actuosa participation in his motu proprio, Tra le sollecitudini (1903): “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.” Pius X, in his apostolic constitution, Divini cultus, wrote in 1928 that the restoration of Gregorian chant for the use of the people would provide the means whereby they “may participate in divine worship more actively.” However, in this document emphasis was also laid upon an appreciation of the beauty of the liturgy that is capable of stirring the heart of the worshipper, who thereby enters into the realm of the sacred mysteries. And in his encyclicals Mystici corporis (1943) and Mediator Dei (1947), Pius XII also used  the term, but insisted that true participation was not merely external. It presumed the state of grace, obtained sacramentally (and presumed therefore baptism, by which there was union with Christ in His Mystical Body).

[2] De musica sacra, an instruction issued in 1958 by the Sacred Congregation of Rites, distinguished between the various levels of participation, indicating thereby that the possibility of profound interior participation was linked  to (not precluded by) high standards of execution. The lowering of standards in the interests of material participation lowers also the level of æsthetic experience, and hence of access to divine Mystery through the senses.

[3] The expression is used by Protestants to distinguish between the Nonconformist, or Free Church, form of worship and the more catholic Anglican pattern.

[4] “Listening, the receptive employment of the senses and the mind, spiritual participation, are surely just as much ‘activity’ as speaking is. Are receptivity, perception, being moved, not ‘active’ things too? What we have here is a diminished view of man which reduces him to what is verbally intelligible, and this is at a time when we are aware that what comes to the surface in rationality is only the tip of the iceberg compared with the totality of man. In more concrete terms, there are a good number of people who can sing better ‘with the heart’ than ‘with the mouth’; but their hearts are really stimulated to sing through the singing of those who have the gift of singing ‘with their mouths’. It is as if they themselves actually sing in the others; their thankful listening is united with the voices of the singers in the worship of God. Are we to compel people to sing when they cannot, and, by doing so, silence not only their hearts but the hearts of others also?” (J. Ratzinger, Feast of Faith, pp. 124-125)

[5] On the issue of mere functionality in the liturgical sphere, Card. Ratzinger in the course of the same analysis, (p. 111) quotes Aristotle (Politics, VIII, 3), who justifies the study of music on the basis that, unlike other studies, it is its own justification: “The lofty mind, the free man is not always asking what use a thing is.”

[6] Card. Jorge Arturo Medina, Prefect emeritus of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, published an article (29th June, 2004) on the nature of participation in the liturgy and indicated that worship as such was not taking place in the soul of a person who was living outside the Lordship and Will of the Person addressed. No feats of beauty compensate for absence of beauty in the soul.

This feature is categorised under Liturgy