Cardinal Ratzinger: pastoral concerns with liturgy.

Among the present ills which plague the Roman Catholic Church, Cardinal Ratzinger is primarily attentive to the collapse of her liturgy. This for him is where remedial measures must begin. A right relationship with God, ensured by sound liturgy, must precede all else.

The voice of concern which Ratzinger raises is as solitary as it is oracular. Other prelates may be of a like mind but remain silent. The problem has surfaced at Roman Synods of Bishops, only to be brushed aside. Ratzinger himself was rendered speechless when Paul VI, in order to make room for his Novus Ordo (Editor: the 1970 Roman Missal which differed greatly from the previous ones), virtually abolished the prevailing liturgy. It was only in his memoirs published in 1998 that Ratzinger revealed how thunderstruck he was over this ruptured continuity of the development of the liturgy.

In the first year of his episcopate (1978), he began to speak from time to time about the calamitous state of the liturgy. He compiled selections of his discourses into two books: Feast of Faith (Ignatius Press, San Francisco, German ed., 1981) and A New Song for the Lord (Crossroad, New York, German ed., 1995). A few years later a third book appeared, this time written from start to finish as a systematic whole, entitled The Spirit of the Liturgy (Ignatius Press, German ed., 1999).

During the last four centuries, the subject of the liturgy has been approached either in terms of "liturgical movement" or "liturgical reform." Ratzinger shows a predilection for the former term and refers to the latter usually in a problematical context. In fact, "reformism" in his vocabulary is rather pejorative. In the 16th-century, it really meant "revolt" against the Roman Mass. 18th-century reformism, whether inspired by the Enlightenment, Gallicanism, Jansenism, or Josephinism, was also anti-Roman.

The term "liturgical movement" apparently came into its own in the 19th-century when the French Benedictine priest, Dom Gueranger, applied it to the restoration of the Roman Rite and its apotheosis of sacred Gregorian music. His initiative was taken under the aegis of the Holy See by Pope St. Plus X (1903-1914) and, during the sixty years between the Pope's famous motu proprio Tra le sollecitudini of 1903 until the Second Vatican Council, flourished and gathered momentum.

While the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council opted for revision, the key word of their Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium is not reform but the instauratio of St. Pius X, re-emphasized by Pius XI. It comes from St. Paul's instaurare omnia in Christo (usually translated as "restore everything in Christ") which obviously refers to the future. Hence the verb instaurare should hot be taken to mean "to restore" but rather "to orient."

Vatican II reformers (Editor: Note that Fr. Mole also uses this term in the pejorative sense) claimed to be motivated by pastoral considerations. Indeed they were recruited preferably from the three Pastoral Centres of Liturgy: Paris, Trier in Germany and Notre Dame, Indiana, U.S.A. "Pragmatic" rather than "pastoral" is Ratzinger's mot juste for the reformism preceding and following the Second Vatican Council (cf. for instance the opening sentence of the preface to his second book, p. ix).

Ratzinger's writings on the liturgy mainly divide into theory as to its inner nature and practices which manifest it outwardly. What follows is similarly divided.

Part I

Feast of Faith (1981)

St. Thomas Aquinas begins each topic of his Summa Theologica by allowing negators to have the first word. The question--"Does God exist?"--immediately prompts his remark: "Apparently not," followed by three formidable arguments in support. He then gives his own response, after which he deals with the objections. Ratzinger extends a similar courtesy to the opposition.

The via negativa introducing Ratzinger's first book is provided by no less than a member of St. Thomas' own Dominican Order, who reduces God to the level of being nothing but the impulse within man to improve himself. He who responds to this stimulus can "transcend" himself. After noting the growing influence of this pathetic state of mind today, Ratzinger asserts, "On the other hand, we are obliged to state firmly that this is not Christian theology. For the prime characteristic of Christian faith is that it is faith in God. Furthermore, that this God is someone who speaks, someone to whom man can speak. The Christian God is characterized by revelation, that is, in the words and deeds in which he addresses man. And the goal of revelation is man's response in word and deed, which thus expands revelation into a dialogue" (p. 16).

The prayerlessness of Western man, whether apathetic or of the "self-transcendance" school, is in marked contrast with the prayerfulness of the Asiatic religions which seek union with God by renouncing individualism. However, the goal of Eastern mysticism is to be absorbed into the divinity by sinking into nothingness, like a drop of rain losing its identity by falling into the ocean.

Christians should likewise renounce the self-centredness of the isolated ego. But for them the object of prayer is to enter into an interpersonal relationship with God, given that He confers personhood, together with existence, on each human being. Moreover Christ, in receiving His followers into His mystical body, the Church, enables them to overcome egoism, and practise detachment from worldly pleasures. Ratzinger finally concludes that "the present age will have to decide ultimately between the Asiatic religious view and Christian faith" (p. 24).

What is the Liturgy?

Ratzinger then asks, "What is the liturgy?" This question is implicit in his title insofar as it prompts us to enquire why faith and festivity go together. It is because liturgical celebration is a rejoicing in the uttermost kind of freedom--freedom from sin and its consequence, death. Christ pays our debt and, in joining us to Himself, restores us to a friendship with God greater than that of man when first created.

Prayer as an interpersonal relationship between man and God is revealed especially by the Prologue of the Gospel of St. John: "In the beginning was the Word (Logos) and the Word was towards God and the Word was God ... and the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us." The habitual translation "And the Word was with God" does not, according to Ratzinger, render precisely the Greek preposition pros, which is "toward" rather than "with." The interlocutory relationship of man and God, brought about by the Word becoming flesh, is likewise toward.

From the tremendous premise that "the logos of God is the ontological foundation of prayer," Ratzinger expounds beautifully on how the Word made flesh draws man into divine dialogue. This prepares the way for the following discourse on the form and content of the liturgy. The theology of the liturgy thus begins to stand forth grandly with what Pius XII's encyclical Mediator Dei of 1947 calls the culmen et fons (summit and source) of the liturgy, namely the Eucharistic celebration. This discourse is both positive and precipitous. The brink is alluded to by Ratzinger at the outset: "If we want to understand the current problems of liturgical reform, we will need to recall a largely forgotten debate which took place between the two World Wars and which is at the centre of these issues" (p. 33). The English translator somewhat obscures the peril by using the word "debate" instead of what Ratzinger really means, namely "quarrel." What indeed happened between the Wars was a withdrawal into mutually exclusive camps which hardened progressively at the approach of the Vatican Council into the traditional/progressive dichotomy. On one side were those who sought to determine the form (gestalt) of the liturgy in order to conform themselves to it; on the other, the sought-after "form" elicited "reform," and the desire to conform the liturgy to themselves. This kind of reformism erupted vehemently after the Council. As for Ratzinger, the real dichotomy he warns against is that between true and false.

A New Song for the Lord (1995)

Whereas the focus of the first book is on "whatness," that of the 1995 book is on "who-ness." It thus aligns itself with the 1947 encyclical Mediator Dei and the 1963 Vatican II Constitution on the liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium which define the liturgy primarily as the exercise of the priesthood of Jesus Christ. Each sacrament is an actus Christi, (Editor: Christ acting, or an act of Christ) no matter by whom it may actually be administered.

There is identity between what Jesus does and who he is. His declaration "I am the way, the truth and the life" does not mean merely "I show the way, speak the truth and give life." It means "I am that which I do." He does hot merely praise: he is the praise of his heavenly Father. He is the liturgy. For this reason, Ratzinger inveighs strongly and repeatedly against the notion that the active participation enjoined by Sacrosanctum Concilium #21 consists in role-playing, in the manner of actors who take part in a play. In truth the priest in the sanctuary should efface himself in order to function in persona Christi (in the person of Christ) and those who assist him must be, or at least be eligible to be, ordained or installed so that there can be self-effacement as well as identity between what they are and what they do.

The first known Latin word for the Mass identifies Christ with his action. It is the compact and energetic term Dominicus, which implies what the Lord does on the Lord's Day. Ratzinger highlights his second book with the story of a group of Christians arrested for assisting at Mass in a North African town. This occurred in 304 A.D. during the persecution by the Emperor Domitian. The owner of the dwelling where the Mass took place, on being asked at the trial why he had allowed this infringement of the imperial edict, replied simply, Sine Dominico non possumus: "We cannot do without what the Lord does on the Lord's Day" (p. 60). In effect it was useless to threaten him and his friends with death because they could not live anyway without the Mass.

This book's principal dissertation is about how Ratzinger concluded a week-long symposium at Madrid in 1989 on the subject of "Jesus Christ Today." Scholars from different communions and various cities of Europe took part. After His death and resurrection, Jesus was perceived by those who saw Him reappear as "Jesus yesterday, today, and the same for ever." Because He is risen, He is encountered as Jesus Christ Today. At the same rime he is perceived as the historical personage of yesterday, whose words and deeds are related by the Gospel. He is also perceived eschatologically (in relation to death, judgement, heaven and hell) as the One who is to come again in glory.

The symposium being an ecumenical occasion, Ratzinger could not bring the Catholic liturgy explicitly into the picture. Nonetheless it is clear that it is thanks to the presence of Jesus in the Eucharistic celebration that our participation therein is a meeting with Jesus Christ Today.

The Spirit of the Liturgy (1999)

The 1981 and 1995 books focus, in their theoretical parts, on "What?" and "Who?". That of 1999 expands the question of "what-ness" panoramically to the dimensions of "Whence it comes?" and "Whither it goes?".

The first chapter envisages the twin peaks of the Old Testament: Creation and Covenant. Even if page one opens with the question "What is the liturgy?" this is only a preliminary in order to dispose of the "play" or "game" theory. There are points of comparison especially when children are at play, in which case there is the element of preparing for later life. As participants in the earthly liturgy, we are children preparing for the liturgy of heaven. But the point that Ratzinger chiefly makes here is that one does not play games with God. How true liturgy was to begin was revealed on Mount Sinai. But before the people of Israel could leave Egypt, negotiations had to take place between Moses and Pharaoh. For the latter, this consisted in a game of political compromise. But Moses stood his ground: there can be no compromise with God. Israel must go forth into the wilderness, men, women, and flocks, and journey to the place appointed for the meeting with God. When this took place at Mount Sinai, the rules of worship were handed down together with the Ten Commandments and the Covenant. However, as Moses was detained for a considerable time at the summit, the people below grew impatient and devised their own mode of worship around the golden calf. So they too attempted to play games with God and were chastised (Deut, Ch. 19, 20, 32).

The relationship between God and a particular people was in view of an eventual union with the whole of humanity. So the book's second chapter skims over the world-views of all religions and philosophies. Noteworthy is the hubris (insolent pride) of Gnostic systems and their elitist exclusivity. Deprived of the knowledge requisite for salvation, some put their hopes in the transmigration of souls. Mention is also made of the eccentricity peculiar to Teilhard de Chardin. From the welter of beliefs and ideals, the best rationale, says Ratzinger, is the theory of exitus and reditus (going forth and returning) and its greatest exponent is the pagan philosopher Plotinus, who lived in Rome in the second century. Ratzinger also in this context alludes to the idea of reditus as universally implying sacrifice, saying "In all religions sacrifice is the heart of worship" (p. 27). But he leaves the analysis thereof to the next chapter.

Exitus viewed by Plotinus is catastrophic, a downward plunge from divinity into an ever-increasing remoteness from it. On the other hand, exitus viewed in the light of biblical faith as creation is an act of freedom and love on God's part. Each creative act is followed by the refrain, "God saw it and it was good." Also, not willing to be loved by robots, He endowed man with free will. This allowed tragedy to enter, in that it was used not to return God's love but to turn away from it. God responded with a still greater love, sending His eternal Son to become man and effect a still greater reditus in love.

Another Christian correction of the Plotinian reditus was the two-dimensional movement, horizontal as well as vertical, or "cross-shaped." A movement that is both lateral and vertical is circular. So the Christian reditus is to be imaged as a great circle, with smaller circles of individual lives, as well as those of communities and cultures, within it.

The third and final chapter brings us in sight of the highest peak towards which all eyes of all the religions of the world are raised: peace between heaven and earth obtained through atonement, hence sacrifice.

There are two kinds of sacrifice: replacement and representation. The sacrificial systems in which the offerings are animals and first fruits of the harvest fall into the category of replacement. All religions recognize the decadence of man and that therefore worship entails atonement, propitiation, reconciliation. The only meaningful gift that man can make is of himself. But he replaces himself with first fruits of crops and slain animals. In spite of the insufficiency of such sacrifice, God initially accepts it until man can learn how to offer a perfect sacrifice. God gives an early intimation of the truly representative sacrifice by ordering Abraham to sacrifice his only son and, at the last minute, intervening to substitute a male lamb (Genesis, Ch. 22). The Passover sacrifice of the lamb as a ransom from the death of the firstborn was also prophetic on the Cross of the Word made flesh, the true Lamb of God.

The basic concepts of replacement and representation are but a beginning of an utterly sublime chapter in which Ratzinger delves to the utmost of his spiritual and theological genius.

So much for theory. The other three parts of The Spirit of the Liturgy are concerned with practices.

Fr. John Mole resides in the Oblate residence on Main Street, Ottawa. He is seriously ill. Please keep him in your prayers.