Interpreted by Love: Liturgical Formation and Participation in the Light of Desiderio Desideravi

Crichton Lecture 2022
Cardinal Arthur Roche

Prefect of the Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments

I am pleased and honoured to be invited to deliver this lecture in memory of Monsignor James Crichton partly because I got to know him during his regular summer sojourns to the Country House at Valladolid when I was a student there, but also because I was fortunate to accompany him to Sant’ Anselmo in 1995, together with Monsignor Timothy Menezes, when Monsignor Crichton was awarded the distinct merit of Doctor honoris causa from the Pontifical Institute of Liturgy for his considerable scholarly contribution to the understanding and importance of the Church’s liturgy.

His many publications, both in book and article form, at a time when the reform of the liturgy was becoming evident, was a great help to students like me.  I have long admired his translation of the collects in the Divine Office, which he produced at breakneck speed with Fr Placid Murray OSB of Glenstall Abbey, at Hinsley Hall in Leeds, which in those days belonged to the Little Sisters of the Poor.  The initiative was Bishop Gordon Wheeler’s who was then the chairman of the Liturgy Commission of the Bishops’ Conference.

Monsignor Crichton’s conviction, that in every parish there should be found the highest standard of liturgy, is always a constant to be undertaken and never to be undervalued as we know from the Holy Father’s recent Apostolic Letter, Desiderio Desideravi,[1] which would have thrilled him.

On the occasion of Monsignor Crichton’s death in 2001, my predecessor, Cardinal Medina Estevez, wrote: ‘The long and fruitful life and priestly ministry of Monsignor Crichton are an exceptional reason for pride on the part of the entire Archdiocese [of Birmingham], the Church in England and Wales, and even beyond national boundaries. He worked untiringly, not only before his retirement as parish priest, but in the long years that followed.’

This combination of being both a liturgical scholar and a parish priest seems to me to testify to something very important.  Monsignor Crichton knew the importance of the liturgy as a means of theological formation of the people of God, not simply in a scholarly way but also experientially.  This witnesses to the vital synthesis of the pastor and theologian, who knows how to unite catechesis and liturgy, theoretical training and life experience – the theory and practice of living a Christian life.  The liturgy is not incidental, nor is it to be taken casually.  This, above all I would like to suggest, is one of the great lessons of Monsignor Crichton’s life and which, in this lecture, I place before you as an important lesson.  Today, more than ever, there is the need for good liturgical formation in order to promote good liturgy and to encourage the active, conscious and full participation of all the faithful in the liturgical celebrations of the Church.  An uninformed approach leads to many misconceptions and falls into the play of individualism.  In the words of a famous dictum attributed to Father Josef Andreas Jungmann, ‘In really important matters, the most practical thing is a good theory.’

As already alluded to, Pope Francis, on the solemnity of Ss Peter and Paul this year, published the Apostolic Letter, Desiderio Desideravi, addressed to the People of God on the great need there is for good liturgical formation.  Such formation is to be achieved through courses, catechesis and reading about the liturgy.  However, in first place, the Holy Father calls our attention to the fact that liturgical formation springs from the celebration of the liturgy itself.  It goes without saying that, if the liturgy is not celebrated well, then the mysteries being celebrated are diminished, the people of God are short-changed and the field is laid wide open for liturgy wars to continue to rage!

As you will be aware, the Holy Father in this letter did not set out to give a systematic treatment of the topic of liturgical formation, much less issue another decree or instruction.  Of decrees and instructions, we have aplenty.  No, his intention is other than this.  What Pope Francis has wanted to do is take the Church by the hand and lead her toward the centre of the mystery we celebrate, toward the heart of Christ which burns with his ardent desire that we should draw nigh, take his body and drink his holy blood, to worship the Father with hearts and minds made new having been washed in the blood of the Lamb.  The Holy Father says, ‘I simply desire to offer some prompts or cues for reflections that can aid in the contemplation of the beauty and truth of Christian celebration.’[2]  Pope Francis’ desire may seem modest, but the depth and breadth of his liturgical vision offers us countless opportunities to pause for reflection in order to appreciate the great gift that has been handed onto us in the liturgical books which form the unique lex orandi of the Roman Rite.

For me, one of the most striking images, in what I would term to be a Papal love letter to the Church and her liturgy, is in paragraph 14, which is worth listening to in full: “As Vatican Council II reminds us,[3] citing the Scriptures, the Fathers, and the Liturgy — the pillars of authentic Tradition — ‘it was from the side of Christ as He slept the sleep of death upon the cross that there came forth “the wonderous sacrament of the whole Church” ’.  The parallel between the first Adam and the new Adam is striking: as from the side of the first Adam, after having cast him into a deep sleep, God draws forth Eve, so also from the side of the new Adam, sleeping the sleep of death on the Cross, there is born the new Eve, the Church.  The astonishment for us lies in the words that we can imagine the new Adam made his own in gazing at the Church: ‘Here at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh’ (Genesis 2:23).  For having believed in His Word and descended into the waters of Baptism, we have become bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh.”[4]

‘Bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh!’  This, my friends, is what we have become, is what we are called to be.  If we are to take sacramentality seriously, we need to begin with Christ’s loving gaze upon his own body: his own flesh and blood, the Church.  A liturgical formation or celebration which is not grounded in the warmth and love of that gaze will remain a dead letter.  Technically proficient, perhaps, but blind to the face of the radiant sun who has come to visit his people.  Therefore, as Pope-Emeritus Benedict XVI said and which has been repeated by Pope Francis, Christianity is not about coming to know a body of doctrine, but about coming to know and having a relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.  Thus, it is that from that penetrating gaze of Christ, who looks at us and loves us (cf. Mark 10:21), we can either go away sad — denying our identity and dignity — or we can rejoice at being recognised for who we are and so come before the Lord in worship, praise and adoration.

The gaze of the crucified and risen Lord, which penetrates hearts, should awaken in us our own ability to gaze — enabling us to see Christ not only as our Lord, but also as our brother.  This is, as the Pope points out, the source of our astonishment!  We who have been washed, anointed, and fed are now become sons in the Son, sharers in the divine nature (cf. 2 Peter 1:4), God’s holy people.  I believe it is from here that we can trace a proper and well-grounded formation which stems from participation in the mysteries. Consider for a moment what Tertullian said about the very fleshiness of the sacraments of initiation:

“The flesh, indeed, is washed, in order that the soul may be cleansed; the flesh is anointed, that the soul may be consecrated; the flesh is signed (with the cross), that the soul too may be fortified; the flesh is shadowed with the imposition of hands, that the soul also maybe illuminated by the Spirit; the flesh feeds on the body and blood of Christ, that the soul likewise may fatten on its God.”[5]

In the same work, Tertullian uses the phrase ‘caro salutis cardo’ — the flesh is the hinge of salvation.[6]   Our response to the Lord’s loving gaze will depend on our being immersed, smeared and fattened with the good gifts God has given us as sacramental signs.  It is then that eyes are opened to look upon the Lord in thankful praise.

 

This idea of the active look or gaze was something dear to Romano Guardini, who, as you will be aware, is cited numerous times in Desiderio Desideravi, and whom the Holy Father has also cited elsewhere in his magisterial documents.  In 1929, Guardini visited the great basilica of Monreale in Sicily.  Any of you who have been fortunate enough also to visit Monreale will know its breath-taking power and its sheer majesty.  The stories of the Bible unfold in stunning mosaics upon the walls, changing hue and character as the rays of the sun pass the course of the day.  Presiding over it all is the gaze of the mighty Christos pantokrator.  To stand beneath this image is in some sense to know that you have been seen, or even seen through.  But, for Guardini, it was when the liturgy was taking place that the basilica, in all its splendour, took on its full significance.  He arrived there on a Holy Thursday.  The Mass was well in progress, and the holy oils were about to be consecrated and blessed.  Guardini noted:

“The ample space was crowded.  Everywhere people were sitting in their places, silently watching.  What should I say about the splendour of this place?  At first, the visitor’s glance sees a basilica of harmonious proportions.  Then it perceives a movement within its structure, which is enriched with something new, a desire for transcendence that moves through it to the point of passing beyond it; but all of this culminates in that splendid luminosity . . . When they brought the holy oils to the sanctuary, and the procession, accompanied by the insistent melody of an ancient hymn, wound through that throng of figures, the basilica sprang back to life.  Its forms began to move… the crowd sat and watched.  The women were wearing veils.  The colours of their garments and shawls were waiting for the sun to make them shine again.  The men’s faces were distinguished and handsome.  Almost no one was reading.  All were living in the gaze, all engaged in contemplation.  Then it became clear to me what the foundation of real liturgical piety is: the capacity to find the ‘sacred’ within the image and its dynamism.”[7]

Guardini paints an impressive scene as the great basilica comes alive during the celebration of the most sacred mysteries.  Here, we are at the core of how liturgical formation and participation comes about – being rapt within an action which is life-changing in its dimensions, not just for the community which is gathered to praise God but also for the whole world.  This brings us neatly to the meaning of the word liturgy – a public work done on behalf of the people.  Those people in Monreale, way back in 1929, who had found the sacred in the dynamic symbols of the Holy Thursday liturgy were changed and become agents of change through living in the gaze.

Guardini, what is more, did not leave it at that.  He went back to attend the Easter Vigil, which in those days was celebrated on the morning of Holy Saturday.  He was taken by how the whole space of the great edifice was used for the various parts of the rite, all of which was highly impressive.  But then he says, ‘The most beautiful thing was the people.  The women with their veils, the men with their cloaks around their shoulders . . .  Almost no one was reading, almost no one stooped over in private prayer.  Everyone was watching.  The sacred ceremony lasted for more than four hours, but the participation was always lively.’[8]  Of course, we are listening to a written description from a time before the capturing of images on our mobile phones.  However, how could we not be impressed by the deep formative nature of the liturgy when it is allowed to speak and when people are disposed to both give and receive.

To participate well — fully, actively, consciously — in the liturgy is to be involved in a process of deep on-going formation.  The liturgy, as Pope St Paul VI described it is the ‘first school of the spiritual life.’[9]  Through its rhythms, its lapidary words, phrases, prayers and gestures, it chisels away at the roughhewn mass which is convoked Sunday after Sunday, and which gradually, almost imperceptibly forms and shapes them into God’s holy, priestly people who have been set apart to sing his praises.  As the Christ-Church subject raises its voice in response to being called to worship, to being gazed upon by her Head and Redeemer then the law of prayer and the law of belief expressed in the rites will assuredly also find form in the law of living as the liturgy seeps into the very fabric of parishes, communities, and our wider society.

As Guardini was about to leave the cathedral in Monreale, he reflected that ‘There are different means of prayerful participation.  One is realized by listening, speaking, gesturing, but the other takes place through watching.  The first way is a good one, and we northern Europeans know no other.  But we have lost something that was still there at Monreale: the capacity for living-in-the-gaze, for resting in the act of seeing, for welcoming the sacred in the form and event, by contemplating them.’[10]  This is a concern which would stay with Guardini until the end of his life.  We need but recall his famous letter to the Third Liturgical Congress in Mainz in 1964[11] where he recalled his experience in Palermo and asked whether we moderns (now post-moderns) were even capable of the liturgical act.  That letter returns to many of the master themes he had explored through his experience with the Liturgical Movement.  Particularly for our purposes he comes back to the idea of participation.

This, of course, is a vexed question upon which much ink has been spilled.  For some, active participation came to mean ever increasing busyness, a constant need for people to be ‘doing’ things during the celebration.  For others active participation was to be understood as an almost totally interior engagement with the rites and prayers with little thought for the corporate nature of Christian worship.  Guardini eschews both of these extremes as he explores the true depths of participation.  In doing so, I believe we come to see that, in reality, we have only scratched the surface of both formation and participation.

In his extended essay Liturgical Formation, Guardini lays out in a masterly way the Christian teaching on the person being a union of body and soul:

‘The centre of liturgical action, the one who prays, sacrifices and acts,’ he says ‘is not the soul, not even interiority, but it is the person.  The whole person carries liturgical action.  The soul is certainly crucial, but only insofar as she ensouls the body.  Interiority, to be sure, is crucial as well, but only as far as it is revealed through the body – anima forma corporis.’[12]

This, then, has obvious consequences for participation in the liturgy.  It becomes obvious, too, that when our liturgical celebrations do not respect this reality then they will fall short, because they will not be engaging the person.  They will either be so spiritual as to be of no earthly use, or be so corporeal as to be emptied of all transcendent meaning.  Guardini unpacks what true participation is:

“We are not living a religion of pure interiority.  The silent internal ‘word’, in which the first concept is formed, itself points to an embodiment.  If it can unfold completely then it will become an external word, gesture, action, bodily being.  It is revealed interiority: a depth filled with life, inner silence that has turned outwards.”[13]

I think that there you have what our formation and our participation should be aiming for: ‘revealed interiority’ and ‘silence turned outwards’.  To reach this place will require more than erudite courses, important as they will be in the overall picture.  First and foremost, however, it requires that our liturgies are true schools of prayer where that inner word can be born and find expression in the signs, gestures, and movements of the liturgy.  At such a stage, few explanations are needed, if any at all, as Christ’s body recognises that she is being gazed upon by her loving Lord.

But, let us follow Guardini further into the realm of true participation.  Reflecting on the fact that some religious attitudes concentrate only on the spiritual and interior dimension — such as wordless prayer made in silence and in an interior openness to God, nevertheless, he continues: ‘The liturgy is different: in it, man in his wholeness is in the centre with all his actions and attitudes.’[14]  If we were to just leave it at that some might say that people are being put at the centre of the liturgy instead of God.  But Guardini has not finished yet: “At the height of his perfection, man is not supposed to lose his body; quite the opposite, he will become – in the truest sense of the word – ever more human.”[15]

Here we can see Guardini reflecting on the eschatological hope that is ours as Christians.  We profess belief in the resurrection of the body and the life of the world to come.  Our ultimate perfection will be the soma pneumatikon, ‘the spiritual body’ of which St Paul spoke (cf. 1 Corinthians15: 44).  The liturgy leads us ever more towards this perfection: ‘in the liturgical act, bodiliness strives always more toward interiority and spirituality, while the soul becomes continually more expressed in the body, becoming bodily in a certain sense.’[16]  If we grasp the depth of what he is getting at here then we must realise that to be truly formed by the liturgy is not only to understand the rites and gestures, it is to be transformed by them, to become more human by participating in the mystery of Christian worship. Guardini’s central point, has, I believe yet to be totally grasped.  It eschews the simplistic and reductive either/or between internal and external participation leading us on to a more difficult but also more fulfilling path which embraces the Catholic position of both/and.  He explains it thus:

“This process has two layers of meaning: from the inside to the outside and from the outside to the inside.  It signifies the internal in the external and allows the internal to be read externally.  This means that the internal is given by the external and the alien internal is received by the external.  It is a symbolic relation in a twofold direction: revealing and recognizing, giving and receiving.”[17]

In order to embrace the depth of such an understanding, it is vital to rediscover the theological sense of the liturgy.  This is an important part of Desiderio Desideravi, where the Holy Father speaks of our debt to the Second Vatican Council and the liturgical movement for rediscovering this theological understanding.  Therefore, when the Pope speaks about the liturgy, he makes his own the words of Pope Pius XII who rejected viewing the liturgy as ‘decorative ceremonies or a mere sum total of laws and precepts that govern the cult.’[18]  Indeed, Pope Francis returned to this theme very recently when he said, ‘The Liturgy is not a beautiful ceremony, a ritual in which our gestures or, worse, our clothes are at the centre.  No!  The Liturgy is God’s action with us, and we must be attentive to Him: to Him who speaks, to Him who acts, to Him who calls, to Him who sends . . . And this is not outside time and history, no, it is within historical reality, within situations.’[19]

The theological understanding of the liturgy is the sine qua non in recovering the beauty of the truth of what Christian celebration is.  It has been foundational from the earliest days of the Liturgical Movement as witnessed to by the words of one of its pioneers, Dom Lambert Beauduin who, in 1909, wrote ‘Knowledge of the liturgy must lead to a renewal of the spiritual life and thus to a renewal of the liturgical apostolate.  There cannot be knowledge without these dimensions.’[20] Quoting Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Holy Father tells us:

“The liturgy is the priesthood of Christ, revealed to us and given in his Paschal Mystery, rendered present and active by means of signs addressed to the senses (water, oil, bread, wine, gestures, words), so that the Spirit, plunging us into the Paschal Mystery, might transform every dimension of our life, conforming us more and more to Christ.”[21]

And here we return to the world of symbols. To engage with the liturgy theologically, we need to have an appreciation for the symbolic language it speaks.  Again, the Holy Father addresses this in his Apostolic Letter by citing Guardini: ‘Here there is outlined the first task of the work of liturgical formation: man must become once again capable of symbols.’[22]  This was the great issue which occupied Guardini for most of his life and was expressed so well in his letter to the liturgical congress in Mainz.  The Pope also shares this concern and writes beautifully and forcefully about the great need there is to become once more ‘capable’ of symbols — starting with the symbol that is our own body.  Without this understanding it becomes nigh impossible to appreciate Guardini’s view of participation and the formative and deeply human interplay between interiority and exteriority.  The Pope laments the fact that ‘modern man has become illiterate, no longer able to read symbols’[23] and then, as if echoing the master he had studied years before he says:

“Our body is a symbol because it is an intimate union of soul and body; it is the visibility of the spiritual soul in the corporeal order; and in this consists human uniqueness, the specificity of the person irreducible to any other form of living being.  Our openness to the transcendent, to God, is constitutive of us.  Not to recognize this leads us inevitably not only to not knowing God but also to not knowing ourselves.”[24]

The challenge facing all of us — the Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, Bishops’ Conferences around the world, and groups like the Society of Saint Gregory — is how to confront the question: ‘How can we become once again capable of symbols?’[25]  I think we have been granted a precious opportunity in the wake of the pandemic seriously once more to engage with the theological and symbolic understanding of the liturgy.  As we are moving people off-line and back to in-person celebrations, this must present a moment when we can show why being called together in the Church to form part of God’s holy faithful people who sing his praises is qualitatively different from joining in on a live stream or, worse yet, a pre-recorded Mass.

The Pope says that a prerequisite for becoming capable of symbols once again is to ‘reacquire confidence in creation’. What the Pope means is ‘that things — the sacraments “are made” of things — come from God.  To Him they are oriented, and by Him they have been assumed, and assumed in a particular way in the Incarnation, so that they can become instruments of salvation, vehicles of the Spirit, channels of grace.’[26]  Once again, the Pope underlines how impoverished an either overly spiritualistic or materialistic reading of the liturgy or sacraments is.  Ultimately, it is damaging for the life of the Church.  We must take these created realities seriously, for ‘if created things are such a fundamental, essential part of the sacramental action that brings about our salvation, then we must engage ourselves in their presence with a fresh, non-superficial regard, respectful and grateful.’[27]  The Holy Father is not saying anything new here, but it is perhaps something we have not attended to sufficiently.  It is after all something one of our own poets, Philip Larkin, intuited when he wrote his poem Water:  “If I were called in to construct a religion I should make use of water.” [28]

How clearly, for example, do our baptismal liturgies reflect the fact that a newly born Christian has been plunged into the tomb with Christ and been raised up with him?  Of course, as the Pope points out, ‘the celebration of the sacraments, by the grace of God, is efficacious in itself (ex opere operato)’, but he continues ‘this does not guarantee the full involvement of people without an adequate way of their placing themselves in relation to the language of the celebration.  A symbolic “reading” is not a mental knowledge, not the acquisition of concepts, but rather a living experience.’[29]  So, one could ask, what type of liturgical celebration will give the best possibility of being immersed in this ‘living experience’?  A ‘furious devout drench’ to use Larkin’s striking image, or a few drops of water poured on the head of the infant or adult to fulfil the necessities of valid celebration?  Again, there need not, indeed there should not, be any opposition between valid celebration and allowing the symbolic language of the liturgy to speak loudly and clearly. We need only listen to the final few paragraphs of the prayer of dedication for a church and an altar to be struck by the breadth of the horizon which the liturgy lays before us:

“Here, may the flood of divine grace overwhelm human offences, so that your children, Father, being dead to sin, may be reborn to heavenly life. Here, may your faithful, gathered around the table of the altar, celebrate the memorial of the Paschal Mystery and be refreshed by the banquet of Christ’s Word and his Body. Here, may the joyful offering of praise resound, with human voices joined to the song of Angels, and unceasing prayer rise up to you for the salvation of the world. Here, may the poor find mercy, the oppressed attain true freedom, and all people be clothed with the dignity of your children, until they come exultant to the Jerusalem which is above.”[30]

In view of what the lex orandi of the Church proposes, we can usefully reflect upon how well do we allow the sacraments to be, for ourselves and God’s holy faithful people, a flood of divine grace overwhelming human offences; the refreshing banquet of Christ’s Word and Body; the human voice joined to that of the angels for the salvation of the world.  Are our celebrations formative in such a way that the poor find mercy, the oppressed true freedom?  Do they offer, here and now, that foretaste of the heavenly Jerusalem?  Or are we content, to paraphrase TS Eliot, to measure out our liturgy with coffee (or indeed scruple) spoons?[31]  Desiderio Desideravi is an invitation to the whole Church to discover anew, and to be amazed at what the Lord has wrought for his Church, which we have access to through the celebration of the mysteries.

A more whole and wholesome celebration of the liturgy, celebrated with all our art and skill,[32] cannot but be a formative experience for the whole Church.  When we are formed, we are changed and become more closely conformed to Christ.  Thus, the liturgy becomes a living reality and the lex vivendi takes hold of us.  This was something that Benedict XVI wrote about in stark terms many years ago in an essay entitled Is the Eucharist a Sacrifice? The Pauline Type: Prophetic Critique of Worship where he said ‘A life of faith in Yahweh and love for one’s brethren is depicted as true worship, without which external worship becomes an empty, indeed repulsive farce (Psalms 40:6ff, 50:7ff, 51:16f; Isaiah 1:11ff; Jeremiah 6:20; 7:22f).’[33]  Indeed, this is also of a piece with what Benedict XVI wrote in Sacramentum Caritatis[34], on the final dismissal at Mass and subsequently added to the Roman Missal: ‘Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord’, ‘Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life’, and simply ‘Go in peace’.  Pope Francis, in the same vein in his various interventions concerning the liturgy, expresses the desire that it not be an ‘empty’ or ‘repulsive farce’ but a thing filled with grace and beauty, truth and holiness, so that when the Lord gazes upon the Church gathered in worship he can truly cry with tender love ‘this at last is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh.’

I know that for years the Society of Saint Gregory has sought to engage in such a process, whereby the fruits of the liturgical renewal wrought by the Council could be carried to the people.  I can but only encourage you to renew your efforts in this regard.  Many of you will probably be aware that recently a new Apostolic Constitution governing the Roman Curia came into force.  In Praedicate Evangelium there are ten articles[35] that cover the competencies of the Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments.  It is the first of those articles I would like to highlight here n.88 which says, ‘The Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments promotes the sacred liturgy in accordance with the renewal undertaken by the Second Vatican Council’.  This is important because, for the first time, it has been stated in black and white that our task is to promote the sacred liturgy in accordance with the renewal undertaken by the Second Vatican Council.  This had not been said by Pastor Bonus, the previous Constitution, nor by any of the other Constitutions which have governed the Curia since the time of Pope St Paul VI.  Perhaps it did not need saying then, but what the new Apostolic Constitution clearly expresses is that this was the will of the Council, whose liturgical reform is irreversible.

Why should this be important?  Well, it is of a piece with the Holy Father’s major interventions in the field of liturgy in these years, for example, the motu proprio, Magnum principium,[36] by which the Holy Father emended the Code of Canon Law, restoring to Episcopal Conferences their competencies surrounding the translation of the typical editions of the liturgical books.  The motu proprio also established the ground for a renewed partnership between Conferences and the Dicastery which is to be marked by mutual collaboration and transparency, something very much to the fore in Praedicate Evangelium.

Then the motu proprio, Traditionis custodes,[37] and the accompanying letter to the bishops of the whole world.[38]  Here the Holy Father states clearly his decision to issue new norms governing the use of the liturgical books antecedent to the reforms of the Second Vatican Council is in order to ensure the unity of the Church.  The Holy Father clearly states that the unique expression of the lex orandi of the Roman Rite is found in the liturgical books decreed by the Council and promulgated by Popes St Paul VI and John Paul II.  He calls on all bishops of the world to assist him in this task of establishing a clear path towards a unitary celebration of the liturgy.  In assisting the Holy Father in exercising his ministry, our Dicastery has a clear mandate, as outlined by Praedicate Evangelium.

Let me once more point to the importance of Desiderio Desideravi, the Pope’s letter to the whole Church on the topic of liturgical formation.  We must be clear that, in this letter, the Pope is talking about the richness and beauty that is to be found in the liturgy as celebrated according to the liturgical books renewed in the wake of Vatican II.  Once again, our Dicastery will be seeking to assist Bishops’ Conferences to receive and apply the profound teaching and reflection which the Holy Father has given.

Of course, we know that liturgical abuses take place, some of them of a very serious and scandalous nature. Promotion of the renewed liturgy also requires us to deal with these matters.  I notice, however, that the majority of these abuses are due to lack of formation, which brings me back to Josef Jungmann’s dictum, ‘in really important matters, the most practical thing is a good theory.’  The bad praxis and abuse that exist in relation to the renewed rites require more than disciplinary interventions, necessary as these might be.  They need the type of positive engagement which Pope Francis has modelled in Desiderio Desideravi.

The Holy Father had already made a clear statement in his 2017 address to the participants of the 68th National Liturgical Week in Italy, which goes well beyond the confines of when he delivered it.  He made his own the words of Pope St Paul VI concerning the necessity of overcoming division and accepting the liturgical reform.   He went on to say that what is needed in this moment is ‘rediscovering the reasons for the decisions taken with regard to the liturgical reform, by overcoming unfounded and superficial readings, a partial reception, and practices that disfigure it.  It is not a matter of rethinking the reform by reviewing the choices in its regard, but of knowing better the underlying reasons, through historical documentation, as well as of internalizing its inspirational principles and of observing the discipline that governs it.’[39]  The Pope’s Apostolic letter on the Liturgical Formation is a precious contribution to that process of ‘internalizing’ the principles of the reform as well as ‘observing the discipline that governs it’.

Therefore, as a first step, I would like to encourage you, the Society of Saint Gregory, to be bold in defending and promoting the unique lex orandi of the Roman Rite.  Make Desiderio Desideravi widely available to parishes, help to organise guided readings of it, promote an ars celebrandi that is grounded in the Paschal Mystery of Christ.  Be active in this task and don’t leave the liturgical field to those small and vocal minorities of whatever hue who seem obstinately to stand against the Holy Father and against the liturgical reform decreed by the Second Vatican Council and curated and carried forward by St Paul VI and his successors.  Again, it is important to be clear, as the Pope was in that speech he gave in 2017: ‘We can affirm with certainty and with magisterial authority that the liturgical reform is irreversible’.

Finally, having read Desiderio Desideravi, you will have noted that the Pope quotes Romano Guardini a number of times; indeed, I have relied on him a lot in my words here today.  Obviously, Guardini’s seminal work The Spirit of the Liturgy has long been available in English, along with other titles such as Preparing Yourself for Mass and Sacred Signs.  These I commend to you for study and wider dissemination.  However, until now there has not been an English translation of his important work Liturgical Formation.  Happily, that lacuna has now been remedied with the publication of Liturgy and Liturgical Formation by Liturgy Training Publications in the United States.  I strongly encourage the Society of Saint Gregory to make this work known to a wide audience within the British Isles and so continue to respond to the Holy Father’s call for a renewed appreciation of the liturgy of the Roman Rite as expressed in the books reformed by decree of the Second Vatican Council.

You are all well aware that people sometimes talk about ‘liturgy wars’.  From what I understand, many of these battles today are carried out in cyberspace, where people with various agendas and motivations set themselves up as experts and interpreters of all things liturgical.  Unfortunately, these keyboard warriors seem to have an outsize effect, particularly on seminarians — this is something bishops visiting our Dicastery on ad limina have reported from many different parts of the world.  The Pope, too, is aware of this, hence his insistence on serious liturgical formation particularly of seminarians and the need for the propaedeutic year.  Many of you listening are pastors and may have some influence on those training for the priesthood.  Be models of good celebration, help these men to think with the mind of the Church rather than the distorted agendas that are so frequently aired through blogs etc.  This is not always an easy task; it requires calling people to maturity and responsibility; calling them out of what may be brittle egos that find solace and refuge in a certain aesthetic promoted in the virtual reality of the web, to find their true home in the great community of faith, where, as the Holy Father reminds us ‘The subject acting in the Liturgy is always and only Christ-Church, the mystical Body of Christ.’[40]

Already, decades ago, the Canadian Jesuit, Bernard Lonergan, saw the difficulty that would lie ahead for the Church in this regard.  In words that could be seen as prophetic he wrote:

“Classical culture cannot be jettisoned without being replaced; and what replaces it, cannot but run counter to classical expectations.  There is bound to be formed a solid right that is determined to live in a world that no longer exists.  There is bound to be formed a scattered left, captivated by now this, now that new development, exploring now this, now that new possibility.  But what will count is perhaps a not numerous centre, big enough to be at home in both the old and the new, painstaking enough to work out one by one the transitions to be made, strong enough to refuse half-measures and insist on complete solutions even though it has to wait.”[41]

In other words, we must not be complacent in resting on our laurels.  There is hard work to be done to resist half-measures and a carefree attitude to what is being handed on to us by the Church in faithfulness and instead we must always be working out the good theory in order to confront the bad praxis wherever we find it.

Notes
[1] Francis, Apostolic Letter Desiderio Desideravi (9 June 2022)
[2] Desiderio Desideravi n.1
[3] cf. Vatican II, Sacrosanctum Concilium n.5
[4] Desiderio Desideravi n.14
[5] Tertullian (160-240), On the Resurrection of the Flesh ch.8
[6] ibid 8.3
[7] Romano Guardini, Spiegel und Gleichnis. Bilder und Gedanken [Mirror and Parable: Images and Thoughts] (Mainz-Paderborn 1990); English Translation at chiesa.espresso.repubblica.it/articolo/49404&eng=y.html
[8] ibid.
[9] Paul VI, Speech Closing the Second Session of the Second Vatican Council, Acta Apostolica Sedis 56 (1964) 34
[10] Romano Guardini, Spiegel und Gleichnis. Bilder und Gedanken
[11] Romano Guardini, Der Kultakt und die gegenwärtige Aufgabe der Liturgischen Bildung (1964) in Liturgie und liturgische Bildung (Mainz 1992); English translation The Cultic Act and the Contemporary Task of Liturgical Formation. A Letter (1964) in Liturgy and Liturgical Formation (Chicago 2022) pp.1–8

[12] Romano Guardini (1885-1968), Liturgische Bildung (1923) in Liturgie und liturgische Bildung (Mainz 1992); English translation Liturgy and Liturgical Formation (Chicago 2022) p.16
[13] ibid. p.21
[14] ibid. p.21
[15] ibid. p.21
[16] ibid. p.21
[17] ibid. p.21
[18] Desiderio Desideravi n.18
[19] Pope Francis to participants of the ‘Shalom’ Catholic community (26 September 2022)
[20] Lambert Beauduin osb (1873-1960), Rapport de promovenda Sacra Liturgia 237
[21] Desiderio Desideravi n.21
[22] Desiderio Desideravi n.44
[23] Desiderio Desideravi n.44
[24] Desiderio Desideravi n.44
[25] Desiderio Desideravi n.45
[26] Desiderio Desideravi n.46
[27] Desiderio Desideravi n.46
[28] Philip Larkin (1922-85), Water (1954)
[29] Desiderio Desideravi n.45
[30] Pontificale Romanum, Ordo dedicationis ecclesiae et altaris p.72
[31] T.S. Eliot (1888-1965), The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (1915)
[32] cf. Desiderio Desideravi n.50
[33] Josef Ratzinger (1927-2022), Theology of the Liturgy: The Sacramental Foundation of Christian Existence (2014) p.212
[34] Benedict XVI, Sacramentum Caritatis n.51
[35] Praedicate Evangelium nn.88–97
[36] Francis, Apostolic letter motu proprio Magnum principium (September 2017)
[37] Francis, Apostolic letter motu proprio Traditionis custodes (July 2021)
[38] Francis, Letter to the Bishops of the whole world that accompanies the apostolic letter motu proprio Traditionis custodes (July 2021)
[39] Francis, Address to Participants in the 68th National Liturgical Week in Italy (24 August 2017)
[40] Desiderio Desideravi n.15
[41] Bernard Lonergan sj (1904-84), Dimensions of Meaning, in Collection, p.245