Liturgi

Vi kan lese mer om Josef Jungmanns synspunkter i en annen artikkel om alterets plassering, av U. M. Lang, bl.a.:

The reform of the Roman Rite of Mass that was carried out after the Second Vatican Council has significantly altered the shape of Catholic worship. One of the most evident changes was the construction of freestanding altars. The versus populum celebration was adopted throughout the Latin Church, and, with few exceptions, it has become the prevailing practice during Mass for the celebrant to stand behind the altar facing the congregation. This uniformity has led to the widespread misunderstanding that the priest’s «turning his back on the people» is characteristic of the rite of Mass according to the Missal of Pope Saint Pius V whereas the priest’s «turning towards the people» belongs to the Novus Ordo Mass of Pope Paul VI. It is also widely assumed by the general public that the celebration of Mass «facing the people» is required, indeed even imposed, by the liturgical reform that was inaugurated by Vatican II.

However, the relevant conciliar and post-conciliar documents present quite a different picture. The Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium, speaks neither of a celebration versus populum nor of the setting up of new altars. In view of this fact it is all the more astonishing how rapidly «versus populum altars» appeared in Catholic churches all over the world. …

(In a document from the Vatican) it is said to be desirable to set up the main altar separate from the back wall, so that the priest can walk around it easily and a celebration facing the people is possible. Josef Andreas Jungmann asks us to consider this: «It is only the possibility that is emphasized. And this [separation of the altar from the wall] is not even prescribed, but is only recommended, as one will see if one looks at the Latin text of the directive…. In the new instruction the general permission of such an altar layout is stressed only with regard to possible obstacles or local restrictions.»

In a letter addressed to the heads of bishops’ conferences, dated January 25, 1966, Cardinal Giacomo Lercaro, the president of the Consilium, states that regarding the renewal of altars «prudence must be our guide». He goes on to explain: «Above all because for a living and participated liturgy, it is not indispensable that the altar should be versus populum: in the Mass, the entire liturgy of the word is celebrated at the chair, ambo or lectern, and, therefore, facing the assembly; as to the eucharistic liturgy, loudspeaker systems make participation feasible enough. Secondly, hard thought should be given to the artistic and architectural question, this element in many places being protected by rigorous civil laws.»

With reference to Cardinal Lercaro’s exhortation to prudence, Jungmann warns us not to make the option granted by the instruction into «an absolute demand, and eventually a fashion, to which one succumbs without thinking». Inter Oecumenici permits the Mass facing the people, but it does not prescribe it. As Louis Bouyer emphasized in 1967, that document does not at all suggest that Mass facing the people is always the preferable form of Eucharistic celebration.

I kommisjonen Consilium, som snekret sammen den nye messeliturgien i årene før 1969, hadde altså både lederen, kardinal Lercaro, og to sentrale medlemmer, Jungmann og Bouyer (jeg leser bøker av begge disse to akkurat nå) sterke reservasjoner mot å snu alterne. I artikkelen til Lang kan vi også lese under overskrifta Early Critics of «facing the people»:

Already in the sixties, theologians of international renown criticized the sweeping triumph of the celebration versus populum. In addition to Jungmann and Bouyer, Joseph Ratzinger, then professor of theology at Tübingen and peritus at the Council, delivered a lecture at the Katholikentag of 1966 in Bamberg that was received with much attention. His observations have lost nothing of their relevance: «We can no longer deny that exaggerations and aberrations have crept in which are both annoying and unbecoming. Must every Mass, for instance, be celebrated facing the people? Is it so absolutely important to be able to look the priest in the face, or might it not be often very salutary to reflect that he also is a Christian and that he has every reason to turn to God with all his fellow-Christians of the congregation and to say together with them ‘Our Father’?»

Jeg spurte for et par dager siden om Josef Jungmanns (jeg leser nå hans 1000 sider om messeliturgiens utvikling) synspunkter på at katolske altere ble «snudd» nesten over hele verden fra og med midten av 60-tallet. Svaret på spørsmålet er tydeligvis at han på 50- og tidlig 60-tall hadde arbeidet for en slik utvikling, men snudde mot slutten av 60-tallet og mente at en slik «snuing» var misforstått og uheldig. Slik åpner en artikkel som drøfter dette spørsmålet: «The claim that the altar of the early Church was always designed to celebrate facing the people, a claim made often and repeatedly, turns out to be nothing but a fairy tale.» —Josef Jungmann, S.J.

I samme artikkel kan vi lese videre:

Jungmann … had originally pressed hard for the implementation of the versus populum arrangement in the modern world. Shortly after the reforms began, he would come to question his presuppositions, and in time, admit their essential fantasy.

Jungmann’s pre-Conciliar support gave the practice a scholarly veneer. His historical works nonetheless do not treat the subject with great confidence: in his magisterial work The Mass of the Roman Rite, he touches on the issue of its historicity as a foregone conclusion, but fails to back his contentions with much in the way of solid documentation. In other works, he suggested that the proper rationale for present-day versus populum was principally pastoral rather than archaeological. Indeed, he even suggested the Early Christians were sloppy or even ambivalent to the whole issue of direction, apparently ignoring the vast corpus of early Christian hymnody, art and liturgy now known to be focused on Christ-as-rising sun and the East. …

… The long history of ad orientem liturgy is a matter of archaeological record. That being said, the question this paper answers might be said to be a moot point, if Pius XII’s advice in Mediator Dei is to be heeded. The worship of the primitive Christians is not the be-all and the end-all of liturgy:

Assuredly it is a wise and most laudable thing to return in spirit and affection to the sources of the sacred liturgy. For research in this field of study, by tracing it back to its origins, contributes valuable assistance towards a more thorough and careful investigation of the significance of feast-days, and of the meaning of the texts and sacred ceremonies employed on their occasion. But it is neither wise nor laudable to reduce everything to antiquity by every possible device. Thus, to cite some instances, one would be straying from the straight path were he to wish the altar restored to its primitive table form …

The prevailing versus populum view of the liturgists of the 1960s was backed up by the latest in archaeological discoveries. This has in turn been disproved by even newer discoveries and scholarship which support the living tradition of ad orientem worship. Perhaps we would have done well to not be so skeptical in the first place of the customs that have been handed onto us. It is in this light that the deep wisdom of Pius XII’s words becomes apparent. The wisdom of what was once a continuous, living tradition, written off in the name of what was then the cutting-edge of a scientific approach to liturgy, has been found to be more trustworthy than we supposed, after all.

So what is the next step in our pilgrimage to the East? This question of orientation, underscoring the presence of the Living God in our sanctuaries, is one close to Benedict’s heart. Yet, having lived through the great trauma of the rapid and perhaps imprudent changes of the late sixties, he understands the dangers of radical, unexplained change. Ratzinger wrote in The Spirit of the Liturgy that it would be a mistake to “reject all the reforms of our century wholesale,” but that the face-to-face dialogue of the Liturgy of the Word must also be distinguished from the “common turning to the East during the Eucharistic prayer,” which remains “essential,” as“[l]ooking at the priest has no importance. […] It is not a question of dialogue but of common worship, of setting off towards the One who is to come. Ratzinger suggests the solution in places “when a direct common turning towards the East is not possible,” to create an “interior ‘east’ of faith,” in the form of a large standing crucifix on the center of the altar table-top for both priest and people to face, and to in part conceal the priest’s identity so that we might recall that he is not acting for his own sake at the altar. This, along with catechesis and education, will pave the way slowly towards a gradual re-orientation of the liturgy, and will prepare us in time to once again turn both physically and spiritually back to the East. Once we realize that we are meant to gaze upon the same Christ rather than on the talking head of the priest, the ancient custom of the eastward position will not seem so outré and alien. …

Jeg leser nå Aiden Nichols bok; Latin Clerk: The Life, Work and Travels of Adrian Fortescue. Det er en interessant og viktig bok, der han grundig beskriver Fortescues studier og reiser i Midt-Østen – der han får stor innsikt i de viktigste østlige kirkene – og også går grundig gjennom innholdet i Fortescues bøker. P. Adrian Fortescue dør dessverre altfor tidlig (49 år gammel) av kreft tidlig i 1923 (les om hans liv her), og i den siste delen av sitt liv husker han ofte på (fra sine studieår i Østerrike) og med stor trøst denne fine teksten og melodien.

Hier liegt vor deiner Majestät im Staub die Christenschar,
das Herz zu dir, o Gott, erhöht, die Augen zum Altar.
Schenk uns, o Vater, Deine Huld, vergib uns unsere Sündenschuld!
O Gott, von Deinem Angesicht verstoß uns arme Sünder nicht!
Verstoß uns nicht, verstoß uns Sünder nicht!

Wir haben Dich, o höchstes Gut, gar oft beleidigt schwer;
O Gott, vergib den Frevelmut, er reuet uns gar sehr!
Zur Sühnung bringt auf dem Altar Dein Sohn sich selbst zum Opfer dar;
um seinetwillen hab Geduld, vergib uns unsre schwere Schuld.
Erbarme Dich, erbarm Dich gnädiglich!

I Jugnmanns store verk i to bind «The Mass of the Roman Rite» (der jeg nå er midt inne i første bind) nevnes også denne teksten – i tysktalende land ble det nemlig tidlig (fra 1700-talet) vanlig å synge salmer på morsmålet, ofte til erstatning for messens latinske proprium og ordinarium. Jungmann skriver om denne teksten: «The best known example from this period is the Singmesse «Hier liegt vor deiner Majestät» (Here before thy masjesty lies), which appears with a first melody in the Landshus hymnal of 1777 and which, after acquiring a new set og melodies by Michael Haydn (d. 1806) continues in use even today.»

Under kan man høre flere av disse melodien sunget av Wiener Sängerknaben (sannsynligvis tidlig på 60-tallet?) – «Deutsches Hochamt» von Michael Haydn:

Zum Eingang «Hier liegt vor Deiner Majestät,
Gloria «Gott soll gepriesen werden»
Evangelium «Aus Gottes Munde gehet»
Credo «Allmächtiger,vor Dir im Staube»
Offertorium «Nimm an,o Herr die Gaben»
Sanctus «Singt heilig,heilig,heilig»
Nach der Wandlung «Sie,Vater von dem höchsten Throne»
Agnus Dei «Betrachtet ihn in Schmerzen»
Zur Komminion «O Herr,ich bin nicht würdig»
Zum letzten Segen «Nun ist das Lamm geschlachtet»
Zum Segen mit dem hochwürdigen Gut «Wir ehren Dich,verhöllter Wundergott»

Jeg skal det kommende halvåret studere meseen fra ca 1200 til ca 1600, og begynte derfor å lese Jungmanns grundige bok fra der han begynner å beskrive denne perioden, som han kaller den gotiske perioden. Han definerer denne med at en viss individualisme hadde begynt å tre fram, men også et behov for systematisering. Han skriver i andre avsnitt at den daglige fellesmessen i kloster og domkirker var den viktigste, men at det også ble feiret (som også før denne tid) en del private messer. Man hadde inntil ca 1200 brukt flere bøker i messen, men da begynte en Missale Plenum å erstatte de tidligere bøkene:

Someone has said, and rightly, that Gothic is in a special degree not only an art style (Kunststil) but a period style (Zeitstil). Because up till now the younger peoples of the North had studied zealously in the school of the older order of things, propriety and proportion, as they appeared in Romanesque, could become the expression of their life. But their growing powers were beginning to spring the old grooves on all sides, seeking newer designs. The individual and subjective, seeing and feeling on one’s own personal activity and personal capability—these came to the fore, and led to a stressing of the concrete and realistic, and consequently to a multiplicity of forms which could be kept together and coherent only by a renewed desire for organization. This new spirit did not call a halt even with regard to divine service; the arrangement of the Mass felt its influence in a most profound manner. Already there was talk of that multiplicity of forms which had developed after the year 1000, but an effort was also made to codify the new forms; we can see in this a parallel to an attempt at mastering the heaped-up resources of knowledge by means of the summas which have been ranged side by side with the daring architecture of the Gothic cathedrals.

At least in the eleventh-century community, forces still held the balance of power in ecclesiastical life and the life of divine worship. Beside the cathedral chapter there was in every larger place, and often also in the country, a collegiate chapter in which clerics under the leadership of a provost or dean led a life in common, and above all conducted a community service of worship. In contrast to them the clerics who were individually in the service of the nobility remained absolutely in shadow, especially since most of them lacked any higher education. For these capitular churches, and for Roman church architecture in general, a characteristic was the roomy choir with its stalls, no longer set in a half-circle around the altar but arranged in several parallel rows between altar and people. The daily conventual Mass, which was celebrated, as in the monasteries, in the presence of the assembled clerical community, formed the crown of choir prayer and the very climax of divine service. In the Mass regulations and in the rubrics of the liturgical books this community service is almost the only one considered; there the celebrant appears nearly always accompanied by deacon and subdeacon, even though private celebration is not unknown. Above all, however, the entire setting of the liturgical texts is still always predicated on the cooperation of a plurality of officials and ministers. The priest needs only the sacramentary. Lectionary and antiphonary continue to be separate books for the use of those who are to read or sing. This situation continues to prevail till about the start of the twelfth century.

But then a new arrangement of the liturgical books breaks into the picture; on the strength of this the priest can take over the roles of lector and chanter and thus discharge the duties of his office independently of them. The ties of the individual are thus loosed in the liturgy, just as in this same period the organization of the canonries had slackened or even dissolved with the trend towards personal prebends and separate residences. In the thirteenth century the Missale Plenum displaces the sacramentary.’ Presages of this new arrangement were the many silent prayers which, as we have seen, had begun to appear in the sacramentaries, at first (since the ninth century) only here and there, but since the eleventh almost universally. These prayers the priest did not have to perform with the community, but softly by himself.

There are isolated instances, especially within the confines of monasticism, where even at an earlier period the priest’s Mass book was fitted out with the lessons, so that the service of a lector could be dispensed with.’ Such books were very likely intended for the convenience of wandering monks, as may also be judged, in the case of the Missal of Bobbio, from the smallness of the book. In the church of Milan too, the oldest sacramentaries almost all incorporate the readings.’ Since the ninth century there appeared at various places sacramentaries in which, appendix fashion, a number of Masses with readings are inserted, sometimes also with the chant-texts. As a rule, in fact, the Masses of the commune and the Missce diversce, along with the Votive Masses, including the Masses for the Dead, were thus distinguished. Votive Masses and Masses for the Dead were employed essentially in the interests of individual families and persons, and especially if they followed each other in rapid succession, were held in the simplest form, often without the lector whose presence was, as a rule, still presumed.

………….

Jeg begynner å nærme meg min studiepermisjon (reiser til Roma 12/10) og har de siste ukene kjøpt inn en del litteratur jeg da skal lese. Jeg har også så smått begynte å lese den største og mest omfattende boka (900 sider over to bind); Mass of the Roman Rite, av Joseph A. Jugmann, S.J. Der begynner hans forord slik (i den engelske utgaven jeg har kjøpt):

Author’s Foreword

This I am sure noe one will doubt; if a study of our transmitted culture is worth the trouble not only of securing a surface knowledge, but of delving with all available care and love to gain an insight into its essence and its course of development, and to grasp the meaning of every last detail, certainly it is no less true—even aside from higher considerations—with regard to the liturgy of Holy Mass, which is daily celebrated on a hundred thousand altars, and to which, Sunday after Sunday, the whole Catholic population streams.

Of course there is no dearth of penetrating studies. Year after year they make their appearance for the widest possible circles of readers. Nor is there a want of scientific research. In the last few decades investigations of every sort have happily been on the increase. But a work of greater magnitude, which would assemble and evaluate the results of so many separate inquiries—that was hardly to be looked for

That the present writer undertook such a task is to be laid, in a sense, to the evil times through which we have passed. When the theological faculty at Innsbruck was abolished a few months after the invasion of the Nazi forces into Austria, the business of teaching could at first be carried on, at least in essentials and with scarcely a diminution of students, outside the confines of the University. But then came the second blow. On October 12, 1939 the Collegium Maximum was closed and given up, along with the Canisianum which had already been seized. But only a few days later, even before my departure from Innsbruck, I made up my mind to dedicate the time thus left free to me to an exposition of the Mass-liturgy. For that seemed to me to be the theme most useful to handle in a time of stress like this. Besides it was this subject that my previous studies and writings, and the great amount of notes and my moderately large collection of books would have best fitted me for. The dissolution of the college had of course involved not only the loss of the extensive college library, but likewise all access to the stacks of the liturgical seminar which had been built up through the years with much trouble and pain.

But I began the work anyway. To be sure, the notion that I could get along with just a few books soon proved to be a big mistake, for I wanted to build a solid structure that did not rest on conjecture and on the unexamined acceptance of the data of earlier authors. But in my new residence in Vienna I found that the friendliness of the authorities concerned opened up many libraries for my convenience …..