For noen dager siden leste jeg en anmeldelse av og en kommentar til John F. Baldovins bok «Reforming the Liturgy. A Response to the Critics» – som jeg også skrev om for et år siden.

Det jeg bet meg spesielt merke i her, var forholdet mellom det latrevtiske og det didaktiske i messen, som jeg er enig i er det viktigste temaet når vi spør oss selv hva messen er, hvordan den bør oppleves etc.. Slik skriver Baldovin om dette på s 141-41:

Has the didactic aspect of the reformed liturgy triumphed over the latreutic?

While this way of formulating the question might seem strange, it strikes at the heart of the debate over the reformed Roman Catholic liturgy. Aidan Nichols is representative of a number of the critics in framing the question as follows: «Is the Liturgy primarily latreutic, concerned with the adoration of God, or is it first and foremost didactic or edificatory, the conscious vehicle of instruction of individuals and the upbuilding of a community?»

Now of course the answer is that the question is badly put. Is it really a matter of either/or? After all, Sacrosanctum Concilium speaks of the purpose of the liturgy as the glorification of God and the sanctification of the human race (§§ 7, 10). The operative word in Nichols’ question is «primarily.» I think it is safe to say that the liturgy is primarily about glorifying God (with the caveat that it is always God’s act first), but at the same time I want to recognize that the conciliar constitution affirms that one cannot disassociate the latreutic and didactic elements of the liturgy. Our growth in holiness and our acknowledgment of the holiness and glory of God need to go hand in hand. In this sense it is important to emphasize the fact that the liturgy always has a didactic and edificatory aspect in addition to a latreutic one. Mistakes are made when the didactic element overwhelms the latreutic. As Robert Taft puts it, when people tell him they do not go to church because «they don’t get anything out of it,» he responds that what one «gets out of it» is «the inestimable privilege of worshiping Almighty God.»

Her siterer Baldovin også pave Benedikt:

Ratzinger is after a similar target when he speaks of the liturgical «turn toward entertainment»:

… the liturgy is not a show, a spectacle, requiring brilliant producers and talented actors. The life of the liturgy does not consist in «pleasant» surprises and «attractive» ideas but in solemn repetitions. It cannot be an expression of what is current and transitory; for it expresses the mystery of the Holy. Many people have felt and said that liturgy must be «made» by the whole community if it is really to belong to them. Such an attitude has led to the «success» of the liturgy being measured by its effects at the level of spectacle and entertainment. It is to lose sight of what is distinctive to the liturgy, which does not come from what we do but from the fact that something is taking place here that all of us cannot «make.»

Doubtless Ratzinger is correct about the contemporary tendency to make liturgy into spectacle and to make it «interesting.»

Michael Davies gir mange eksempler på klovnemesser o.l. i sin bok ‘Pope Paul’s New Mass’, men innrømmer også at disse jo bryter med de liturgiske reglene. Det er også klart for alle at grove brudd på liturgiske regler ikke lenger skjer på langt nær så ofte nå som på 70-tallet. Det jeg syns er viktigere i Davies’ bok, er der han beskriver hvordan de moderne liturgene beskriver hvordan prestene må begynne å feire messen på en annen måte; at fokus i mye større grad må være på menneskene som er til stede i messen (enn på Gud), og at dette i praksis betyr at det må være en kontinuerlig kontakt mellom presten og messedeltakerne gjennom aboslutt hele messen:

Father Hovda considers the facial expression of the celebrant to be crucial to a successful celebration-which virtually restricts «success» to good-looking extroverted presiders.

“It should not be necessary to say that absent-mindcdness or a far-away look in or on the presider are death to a worship assembly. It should not be, but it is … Good presidency mcans an effort to solicit the attention of each person in the assembly with one’s eyes, as well as with one’s general demeanor. To attend to anything else – even the book or the bread and wine – without attending to the persons present is the opposite of the style we seek.

One need not and one should not devour the congregation with one’s eyes. But there must be a constant exchange of interested, compassionate, encouraging looks, not only during reading and homily but also during song and prayer. The heavenward gaze (although there is nothing wrong with an occasional glance upwards if it fulfils a need) belongs to a view of the universe no longer with us. Our assembly gathers, conscious of the unseen and transcendent. But with our eyes we see, and what we see should be nothing less important than the people. Our brothers and sisters are the first sign of Christ’s presence, and the most important ones. “ …

The final paragraph of Father Hovda’s article makes explicit his belief that the Catholic concept of a cultic (sacrificing) priesthood has been replaced by that of a Protestant ministry: “These are, I think, important elements of the style and presence required of a good presider. Thoughtful readers will add others. Together we have to appreciate what Gregory Baum called the transition from a «cultic priesthood» to a «ministerial priesthood.» No longer «magical» persons, we are servants now, who must earn attention, respect, and cooperation. Our earning power is what we are talking about when we discuss style and presence. There is great satisfaction to be found in today’s ministry by men who are interested in being not stars but good servants.”

– og han har gjort det med mye ‘frykt og beven’.

This past weekend I made one of those decisions in my two parishes that was very difficult, only in the sense that my own silly pride seems forever inclined to seek the approval of others. It was one of those decisions that I could’ve waited on … to see if many other parishes were doing this first, but that stupid “integrity” thing wouldn’t let me wait for that.

This weekend we made the move to refrain from the use of Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion. Thanks to this internet age in which we live, the appropriate teaching on this was hard to escape. Up to now, I hid behind my “ignorance”, but once I received the truth, the culpability of my dissent became more grave. I could no longer cower behind my lack of knowledge. My conscience got the better of me as I realized my dissent would now be direct. … (also, like the Holy Father, I place a kneeler in front of me to give our people the option of kneeling or standing) …

Of course, I spent the weekend giving our people the teaching (with love) on this, and the response (so far) has been anything from, “Thank you, SO MUCH, father … we have been waiting for years for this” to “I’m leaving the parish.” …

I’ll humbly take your prayers that I remain strong and full of God’s love and patience as I move from the easy “wait and see” position to the bloody front lines on this issue.

I USA kan man bruke både 10 og 20 ekstraordinære medhjelpere i en søndagsmesse, så bildet over er ganske representativt. I Norge er det på ingen måte slik, selv om det her også varierer en del fra menighet til menighet – og også hos burde man flere steder skjære ned på slike medhjelpere. I dokumentet Ecclesia de mysterio fra 1997 presiserte Vatikanet at slike ekstraordinære medhjelpere bare skal brukes når det er absolutt nødvendig. «Extraordinary ministers may …. also exercise this function at eucharistic celebrations where there are particularly large numbers of the faithful and which would be excessively prolonged because of an insufficient number of ordained ministers to distribute Holy Communion. This function is supplementary and extraordinary and must be exercised in accordance with the norm of law. …»

Les sogneprestens egen framstilling av hva han har gjort, og en ganske stor debatt om dette hos Father Z. Det som gjorde mest inntrykk på meg, er hvor ‘farlig’ det er for en prest å gjøre slike ting.

William Oddie har satt dette som overskrift til en artikkel der han gir seg over i oppgitthet over de irske prestene som nå (forsatt) vil kjempe mot den nye oversettelsen av messen på engelsk. Han hadde ikke tenkt skrive mer om dette, sier han, siden kampen om denne oversetttelsen har vart i 10 år, og tusenvis av sider er skrevet om dette allerede. Han skriver likevel et innlegg som han avslutter slik:

… The fact is that the “battle” now beginning over the introduction of the new translation is little more, by comparison with the warfare of the past few years, than a final skirmish, virtually over before it has started. It is, quite openly, the last gasp of those whose watchword has been “The Spirit of Vatican II” (“Spirit”, in quotes, rather than reality), the final faltering assault of the hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture. But these people have already lost. If you doubt that, have a look at the comments below last week’s online story headlined: “Irish priests claim new Mass translation is ‘elitist and sexist’.” In the end there were 124 comments on this story, all except a handful from outraged lay people hotly rejecting the complaints of these Leftist and anti-Roman priests.

One of them was from me. My comment simply was: “The instant, massive and almost unanimous hostility these elitist dissidents – who ludicrously complain about the elitism of the new translation – have aroused (see below), from the people in the pews who have suffered at their hands for 30 years, says it all. What a massive own goal their ‘urgent plea’ has turned out to be.”

Another of those who responded simply but eloquently asked: “Why can’t these priests do what Rome wants, we did not have these problems in the past… it’s getting like they used to say about the Anglicans and probably still do, a Pope in every pulpit.” Well, indeed; but the good news is that the tide has now turned: these dissident priests are ageing and on the way out. If we keep our nerve, we are virtually there: we shall overcome.

Jeg fortsetter her (her er første innlegg) å sitere litt fra Michael Davies bok om hvordan prestene rundt 1970 ble bedt om å engasjere menigheten når de feiret messen – heller enn å fokusere på å lede menigheten i frembæringen av messens hellige offer.

… Father Hovda makes no secret of the fact that the new style of celebration is linked with a new theology of the Eucharist, and that the former theology left much to be desired: “At no point will the demands of good style and presence weigh more heavily on the president than in the proclaiming of the Eucharistic prayer now totally in English. This will be a kind of test. If he comes through here he will be marvellous elsewhere. For in the canon he must overcome not only careless manners, but also a Eucharistic theology and piety which leave much to be desired.”

The celebrant is referred to consistently not as a sacrificing priest but as a … «president” … Father Hovda tells us that: «Presiders must become familiar with current writing on eucharistic theology» and that the «presiding minister» is «the one who preaches, sums up the prayers of the faithful, proclaims the canon, initiates the peace-greeting and makes sure that all the faithful present are served at the holy table.» This is a description of the function of a Protestant minister.

Father Hovda explains that Article 11 of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy stated that it is the duty of pastors to insure that the faithful «are actively engaged in the rite.» «It is,» he claims, «the end of rubricism, the end of an era. And a completely different outlook is required of all who lead the worshipping assembly.» The priest has thus been reduced from the celebrant of Mass to the leader of a worshipping assembly. Father Hovda is as loath to refer to the Mass as he is to the priesthood. Interestingly, and perhaps hopefully, English-speaking Catholics have clung to the term «Mass.» In France, outside traditionalist circles, it has been virtually replaced by the term «Sunday Assembly.»

Father Hovda’s president is a communicator rather than a consecrator. «By ‘communication’ I mean the will, the desire to communicate, a passion for ‘coming through,’ ‘getting across,’ finding the right wavelength so that everyone in the assembly can say, ‘I hear you loud and clear brother’.»

Father Hovda is in no doubt about the style he is aiming at: «Good public worship will be relevant and gutsy, like the songs of Simon and Garfunkel, with their rich symbolism and their enduring capacity to interest and intrigue the mind.»

The Mass is the making present of Christ’s sacrifice upon the altar-can any renewal of Calvary not be relevant? As for rich symbolism, every gesture of the traditional Mass has some rich symbolic association which, with due respect to Father Hovda, is of a somewhat more enduring quality than the songs of Simon and Garfunkel. …

Det fins forøvrig et eksemplar av Hovdas bok om akkurat dette; en litt senere bok (1976) av ham om samme tema: Strong, loving and wise: presiding in liturgy, by Robert W. Hovda – på Menighetsfaktultetets bibliotek.

Heldigvis bruker vi på norsk ikke uttrykk som «presider» ved en messe (som de gjør på engelsk); vi sier vanligvis celebrant, eller «presten som feirer messen». Vi ser heller ikke ofte de ekstremt «teatralske» messen vi kan se i utlandet – jeg så selv min aller verste messe i Portland, Oregon, for 12-13 år siden. Der var presten en flink og energisk skuespiller, som dro hele forsamlingen til seg med stemme, blikk og kroppsholdning gjennom hele messen, også gjennom hele den eukaristiske bønn.

Men også hos hender det nok ganske ofte at presten føler han bør engasjere menigheten i ganske stor grad gjennom messens gang. Slik var det ikke tidligere; det vet forhåpentligvis de fleste – og jeg er gammel nok til å huske at det heller ikke var slik i Den norske lutherske kirke.

Michael Davies tar opp dette temaet på en interessant måte i kapittel 8 i sin bok Pope Paul’s New Mass, han kaller kapittelet «THE PRESIDENT AS ACTOR» og han åpner det slik:

In 1967 Father Robert V. Hovda wrote an article in Worsbip entitled «Style and Presence in Celebration.» It is not an exaggeration to claim that this article has had a greater influence on the liturgical reform in the English-speaking world than the Vatican II constitution on the Sacred Liturgy itself. Anyone who takes the trouble to study the Liturgy Constitution carefully will discover that its contents appear totally unrelated to the revolution enacted in its name. … Father Hovda’s article is a case in point. It has been quoted or paraphrased time and again in the writings, lectures, and workshops of other revolutionaries. When he wrote it in 1967 there were still sufficient priests and laymen with a Catholic mentality to regard the author and his ideas as crazy. But in 1980 it is anyone who questioned the theories of Father Hovda who would be regarded as a madman.

The most evident characteristic of Father Hovda’s article is that its entire ethos is uncatholic where it is not actually anti-Catholic. There is nothing comparable in the 2,000 year history of the Church. I have shown in Pope John’s Council that the liturgy is, in its essence, something done by Christ. It is the service par excellence which He offers for His Church today. During the Mass His Sacrifice is made present upon the altar. The Divine Victim is offered to God the Father with every possible solemnity by priest and people …

Because the celebrant is acting in persona Christi, because he freely chooses to make himself Christ’s instrument, it is not surprising that his own personality should be submerged into that of his Divine Master during the course of the liturgy, the public work of Christ. In the traditional Mass the rubrics insured the celebrant subordinated his personality to the celebration. His every word, every gesture, was meticulously regulated. This is why, providing the rubrics were observed, a badly celebrated Mass was almost impossible. Hurried, unedifying celebrations may have occurred-but they were certainly the exception. The rubrics insured that normally every celebration was recollected, prayerful, and dignified. The fact that much of the Mass was said in a very low voice made no small contribution to this edifying situation. Before the Council it would have been most unusual to hear a member of the congregation remark that a Mass bad been either dull or lively. The Mass was the Mass, and that was that. … It was the Mass that mattered, not the «style and presence» of the celebrant. This is no longer the case for the disciples of Father Hovda – and they are legion. The Mass is seen by them as little more than a vehicle for displaying their histrionic talents.